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The 
Husband  Test 


By 

MARY  CAROLYN  DAVIES 


Frontispiece  by 
ELIZABETH  PILSBRY 


THE  PENN  PUBLISHING 
COMPANY  PHILADELPHIA 

1921 


COPYRIGHT 
1921  BY 
THE  PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 


The  Husband  Test 


CONTENTS 

I.    Bettina  of  the  Bourgeoisie    . 
II.    Goes  to  a  Greenwich  Village  Ball 

III.  Bettina  Pays  for  the  Taxi     . 

IV.  "  It  Will  Be  so  Exciting  to  Marry 

a  Eadical  !  "   . 

V.    Bettina  and  the  Acid  Test     . 

VI.     "Well,"    Said   Bettina,    "I  Was 
Thinking  of  a  Month  " 

VII.  For  the  Good  of  the  Eace 

VIII.  Bettina  Takes  Her  Hat  and  Goes 

IX.  Bettina  Lunches  on  Lotus 

X.  For  a  Time  ..... 

XL  And  Finds  It  Not  so  Filling  as  It 


Might  Be 


XII.    Bettina  Discovers  the  Bevolution    113 


XIII.  Bettina  Pays  the  Bills    . 

XIV.  The  Overhead  on  Parnassus  . 
XV.  Temp  Buys  a  Ton  of  Coal 

XVI.  Must  There  Always  Be  Causes  ! 

XVIT.  Bettina  and  the  Bus  Conductor 

XVIII.  The  White  and  Gold  Chair     . 

3 

3  &  9  rt  3  o 


5 

17 
29 

36 
45 

58 

79 
87 
98 

105 


118 
129 
134 
139 
145 
150 


CONTENTS 


XIX. 

The  Strap- Hanger  to  the  Sar- 

158 

XX. 

Picnicking  on  Parnassus 

169 

XXI. 

Enter  the  Laundryman 

176 

XXII. 

Parnassus  Besieged 

180 

XXIII. 

Clarice  the  Cleaning  Lady 

185 

XXIV. 

The  Landlord  and  the  Citadel 

OF  JxRT  ...... 

189 

XXV. 

War  to  the  Knife 

194 

XXVI. 

The    Landlord    Discovers    the 

199 

XXVII. 

Bettina  Beverts  to  Type 

206 

XXVIII. 

Bettina  Eeturns  to  the  Fold 

213 

XXIX. 

Bettina  and  the  Balcony  Scene  . 

220 

XXX. 

Temp  as  a  Good  Provider 

235 

XXXI. 

"So  This  Is  Love!'  ' 

243 

XXXII. 

For  You  a  Violet  .... 

249 

'     '  ■    .    I    ->  -> 

,    I  .  ■  •,,,'■■' 


The  Husband  Test 


CHAPTER  I 

BETTINA  OF  THE   BOURGEOISIE 

Anarchism  and  baths  would  be  a  political 
combination  hard  to  conquer. 

But  that  they  will  ever  be  combined  is  doubt- 
ful. The  leaders  who  insist  on  baths  alone, 
overlook  the  adventurous  part  of  one's  nature 
to  which  anarchism  makes  its  eternal  appeal; 
and  those  who  insist  on  anarchism  alone,  forget 
that,  if  stifled  too  long,  the  part  of  one's  na- 
ture which  craves  baths,  will  arise  and  assert 
itself. 

As  society  is  constituted  now,  we  must  each 

make  our  fateful  choice.    The  world  is  lined 

up  into  two  "  sides,"  like  a  spelling  match,  each 

side  glaring  at  the  other  and  resolved  to  spell 

it  down.    This  is  what  divided  New  York  into 

"  Uptown  "  and  "  The  Village." 

6 


(  .  * 


(     r 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Uptown  is  a  place  where  people  have  clean 
table  napkins  and  no  ideas;  and  Greenwich 
Village,  where  they  have  any  number  of  ideas, 
but  no  clean  table  napkins.  The  denizens  of 
these  two  different  countries  never  mingle;  of 
course,  natives  of  each  go  slumming  into  the 
hostile  territory,  but  slumming  can  on  no  ac- 
count be  said  to  be  mingling.  A  slumming 
expedition  is  undertaken  for  the  purpose  of 
criticizing  while  it  is  going  on,  and  of  boasting 
afterward.  One  goes  for  the  reason  one  climbs 
mountains,  not  for  the  sake  of  any  inherent 
pleasure,  but  only  to  say  one  has  done  it. 

Parties  of  women  who  live  at  the  Astor  come 
with  their  escorts  to  Polly's,  and  the  cellar  of 
the  Brevoort,  and  to  the  Pow-wow,  and 
Marie's,  level  spiritual  lorgnettes  at  anyone 
who  happens  to  be  sitting  at  the  candle-clad 
tables,  speculate  in  whispers  about  their  prob- 
able morals,  and  then  go  home  and  describe  it 
all  at  each  other's  teas. 

"  Weird,  simply  weird,  my  dear."  And, 
seeing  smocks  which  cost  their  owners  seventy- 
six  cents,  they  copy  them  accurately  at  an  ex- 
pense of  twenty-seven  dollars,  and  wear  them 

6 


BETTINA 


holily  and  blandly  in  their  boudoirs,  to  their 
husband's  great  disgust  and  their  maid's 
amusement. 

But  it  is  not  Upper  Fifth  Avenue  and  Riv- 
erside Drive  alone  that  goes  slumming.  No 
Villager  really  is  above  it.  They  of  Sheridan 
Square  go  just  as  eagerly  on  occasion  to  tea 
with  a  great  lady,  and  criticize  the  butler  in 
their  hearts,  and  come  home,  and  with  two  mat- 
tresses from  Macy's  and  several  yards  of  cre- 
tonne, copy  an  achievement  of  madame's  inte- 
rior decorator,  for  the  floor  of  the  studio. 

And  just  as  surely  as  madame  boasts  to  her 
friends  from  Greenwich,  Conn.,  about  Green- 
wich Village,  N.  Y.,  and  casually  mentions 
dropping  in  at  Polly's  last  Saturday  night  and 
going  around  afterward  to  see  the  studio  of 
Pierre  Peters,  the  artist, — "  Such  a  clever 
young  man," — just  so  surely  does  Betty 
Barnes,  one  hundred  and  thirty  something 
MacDougal  Street,  boast  of  her  friend  Nadine 
Yorowits,  over  their  cigarettes,  that  she  had 

tea  yesterday   at   Mrs.  's  on  Riverside 

Drive. 

Of  course  in  the  Village  they  hide  the  boast- 

7 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


ing  motif  better.  They  do  everything  better 
in  the  Village.  The  subtle,  complex,  highest 
achievement  of  civilization  finds  its  expression 
there,  more  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 
The  Villagers  do  not  tell  you  this,  they  are  too 
modest.  They  only  let  you  see  it  yourself  from 
their  conversation. 

But  the  veneer  of  friendly  intercourse  which 
necessarily  coats  slumming,  is  cast  aside  by 
these  two  parts  of  New  York  when  their  polit- 
ical division  is  concerned.  Here  they  are 
frankly  foes,  and  there  can  be  no  trafficking 
with  the  enemy. 

Someone  down  the  march  of  ages  once  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  mixing  politics  with  ideals, 
and  since  then  there  has  been,  as  less  scrupu- 
lous persons  might  phrase  it,  the  devil  to  pay. 
When  people  begin  having  ideals,  something 
uncomfortable  usually  happens.  While  poli- 
tics were  politics,  all  was  well,  but  now  that 
politics  are  ideals,  families  split  and  hate  each 
other,  parents  quarrel  and  children  fight, 
brother  is  set  against  brother,  and  the  uptown 
slummer  and  the  merry  Villager  think  of  one 
another  with  contempt  and  scorn. 

8 


BETTINA 


There  is  no  hatred  like  the  hatred  between 
radical  and  conservative — unless  it  be  the 
hatred  between  radical  and  radical — but  that 
has  nothing  to  do  with  Bettina. 

Bettina  Howard  was  a  girl  who  had  gone  to 
boarding-school,  at  the  correct  distance  up  the 
Hudson,  and  had  lived  up  to  the  ideals  of  her 
English  teacher  ever  since.  Bettina  was  of 
the  height  that  finds  dances  in  the  West  more 
enjoyable  than  in  New  York,  for  in  New  York 
there  are  always  a  certain  proportion  of  short 
men.  She  was  slender,  with  bones  in  her  neck, 
and  knobby  elbows,  but  there  was  something 
about  her — it  was  a  vestige  of  charm  like  a 
smudge  on  her  face.  Everyone  but  she  knew 
about  it,  and  if  she  had  guessed  at  its  presence 
now,  she  would  have  wiped  it  off,  stern  and 
ashamed.  For  already  she  was  on  the  verge  of 
becoming  emancipated.  She  was  of  that  in- 
determinate race  that  is  neither  blonde  nor 
brunette,  and  so,  according  to  all  the  tables, 
may  marry  either.  Her  hair  was  only  hair- 
color.  It  was  a  grief  to  her,  for,  like  all  girls 
except  red-headed  ones,  she  would  have  liked 

it  to  be  red.    She  was  a  kindly  girl,  who  sought 

9 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


to  give  joy  to  all,  but  she  had  a  way  of  finding 
the  most  devious  methods  of  doing  it. 

She  was  engaged  to  a  proper  person.  Noth- 
ing is  more  tantalizing  and  elusive  than  being 
engaged  to  a  proper  person.  It  only  serves  to 
give  one  hints  of  how  delicious  the  same  sort  of 
relationship  would  be  with  someone  more  ex- 
citing. 

"  Exciting "  was  Bettina's  favorite  word, 
and,  poor  girl,  she  found  little  occasion  to  use 
it.  When  one  has  always  lived  at  tHe  correct 
number  on  Riverside  Drive,  and  has  no  place 
but  teas  to  meet  one's  old  friends  and  make  new 
ones,  life  ceases  notably  to  excite.  She  lived 
in  a  more  unpretentious  place  now,  for  since 
her  parents'  death  had  left  her  alone  in  the 
world,  and  unexpectedly  penniless  as  well,  she 
had  supported  herself  teaching  school.  And 
there  was  no  excitement  in  that. 

But  Bettina,  being  a  woman,  hoped  on.    She 

felt  sure  that  she  would  only  have  to  be  good 

and  gentle  and  unselfish  and  get  up  early  in 

the  morning  after  a  dance  and  step  bravely 

under  the  cold  shower,  without  stopping  to 

shiver,  and  all  good  things  would  come  to  her. 

10 


BETTINA 


She  is  not  the  first;  many  people  have  lived 
and  died  in  that  belief. 

But  after  two  or  three  weeks  of  following  the 
formula,  she  was  distinctly  bored.  The  How- 
ards are  a  very  old  and  autocratic  family. 
They  do  not  slum. 

And  besides,  it  was  early  Spring.  One  is 
always  so  apt  to  be  bored  in  early  Spring. 

Bettina  was  being  called  upon  by  William 
Clark,  her  eminently  proper  fiance,  who  had 
recently  been  admitted  to  the  bar.  It  is  a  nice 
question  whether  the  punishment  of  calls  falls 
more  heavily  upon  the  sinner  or  the  sinned 
against. 

"  Let  us  hope,"  said  Bettina,  after  a  wide 
pause,  during  which  they  both  looked  longingly 
out  of  the  window,  "  that  in  heaven  there  is  no 
calling  or  paying  of  calls." 

William  smiled  indulgently.  "  Am  I  to 
understand  you're  not  having  a  good 
time?" 

"  I've  never  had  a  good  time  in  my  life! " 
she  broke  out. 

"  Few  do,"  murmured  William. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right  about  you.    You're  from 

11 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


New  England,  and  you  get  your  thrills  in 
denying  yourself  thrills.  But  all  my  ancestors 
came  from  Montana.  I  can't  get  drunk  on 
self-denial.  I'm  not  a  Boston  Bacchanal.  I 
haven't  it  in  me." 

"  I — ah — I  wouldn't  say  we  exactly  get 
drunk  on  self-denial,  Bettina,"  he  remon- 
strated. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do !  A  man  with  a  New  Eng- 
land conscience  is  like  a  man  with  a  private 
supply  of  liquor  in  his  own  cellars.  A  secret 
tippler,  or  whatever  it's  called.  He  doesn't 
have  to  go  out  and  drink  at  public  bars.  Of 
course  I  know  there's  no  such  thing  as  drinking 
any  more.  Didn't  they  make  a  law  about  it  or 
something?  But  anyway,  it's  so  convenient  to 
be  a  New  Englander  and  find  hilarious  excite- 
ment in  constant  battles  between  your  better 
self  and  your  brute  nature,  like  a  baseball 
series.  It  keeps  you  interested.  It  saves 
money  too.  You  never  have  to  go  to  the  movies 
to  be  entertained." 

"  I  should  never  go  to  the  movies  in  any 

case,  I  hope,"  said  William  with  disapproval  in 

his  tones. 

12 


BETTINA 


Bettina  looked  at  him  a  moment.  "  No,  you 
wouldn't,"  she  agreed  despairingly. 

"  It's  not  that,  though,  really.  It's  not  only  a 
good  time." 

"  But "  he  asked  leaning  toward  her 

and  looking  at  her  through  his  aristocratic  nose 
glasses.  He  had  the  sort  of  thin,  intellectual 
face  to  which  nose  glasses  are  the  necessary 
finishing  touch,  like  the  cherry  in  a  fruit  lemon- 
ade.   "  But  what  is  it  you  want?  " 

"  Oh,  I  want  all  sorts  of  things — like  free- 
dom." She  was  so  earnest  that  she  left  her 
stiff -backed  chair  and  came  and  sat  on  the  sofa 
quite  near  him.  "  Intellectual  freedom,  I 
mean.    And  progress." 

"  Hm — yes.    Toward  what?  " 

"  Well,  I  hadn't  thought."  Her  frank  blue 
eyes  looked  out  trustfully  at  him. 

"  I'd  like,"  she  said  after  a  wistful  pause, 
"  to  be  at  the  center  of  things.  Where  new 
movements  are  born."  She  looked  into  his  face 
for  encouragement.  "  That  sort  of  thing,"  she 
elaborated  hopefully. 

"  Ah— yes,"  said  Clark.    "  Yes." 

She  punched  a  yellow  sofa  cushion  into 

13 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


shape  as  he'd  seen  her  do  a  hundred  times,  dug 
her  elbow  comfortably  into  it,  leaned  her  head 
on  her  hand,  looked  into  his  eyes  and  spoke 
confidentially. 

"  It's  a  terrible  thing  to  live  among  the 
dead,"  she  said  plaintively.  "  Reactionaries. 
People  who  are  blind  to  the  great  things  going 
on  about  us."    She  looked  earnestly  at  him. 

"  Movements,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  yes." 

"  There  is  so  much  to  be  done." 

"  I  dare  say." 

She  became  impassioned.  "  I  want  to  know 
life  for  myself,  to  see,  and  hear,  and  feel ! ' 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  that  I  should  so  much 
advise  feeling,"  he  interposed  cautiously. 

"  I  want  it!    I  want  it  all!  "  said  Bettina. 

He  looked  at  his  hands  interestedly,  and  at 
the  rug. 

"  Life! "  said  Bettina.  "  I  want  to  see  life, 
real,  pulsating,  naked! " 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  life  goes,  I  dare  say  it  would 
be  perfectly  proper.  It's  only  in  art  we  object 
to  the  nude." 

"  Art,"     she     repeated.      And    her    eyes 

14 


BETTINA 


sparkled.  "  To  be  with  those  who  are  the  true 
devotees  of  art,  who  give  their  lives  to 
her " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  Those  who  bring  the  play  spirit  into  art 
and  life,"  she  said  enthusiastically. 

He  felt  then  that  a  suspicion  he  had  enter- 
tained earlier  in  the  conversation  was  con- 
firmed. 

"  Bettina,"  he  asked  sadly,  "  have  you  been 
seeing  an  announcement  of  one  of  those  Green- 
wich Village  Balls? " 

"  Yes,  I  have." 

"  But  — 


"  And  I'm  going.' 

He  resigned  himself.    "  I  shall  take  you.5 

"  That  wouldn't  be  the  same  thing  at  all ! 
You  wouldn't  let  me  dance  with  the  interesting 
untidy  ones." 

"  Certainly  I  shouldn't." 

"  And  so  I'm  going  by  myself!  " 

"Bettina!" 


There's  nothing  to  be  said  about  it.' 


There's  one  thing  to  be  said."     He  was 

standing  now,  his  shoulders  firmly  thrown  back 

15 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


with  the  proper  degree  of  stiffness.  "  You  are 
my  fiancee,  and  I  shan't  allow  it." 

Bettina  stood  up  also.  She  slipped  the  ring 
dexterously  from  her  finger  and  into  his  pocket 
and  had  backed  out  of  reach  before  he  could 
divine  her  purpose. 

"  I  could  never  have  married  j^ou  anyway," 
she  said.  "  You  would  smother  my  person- 
ality." 


16 


CHAPTER  II 

GOES  TO  A  GREENWICH  VILLAGE  BALL 

Foil  a  moment  he  looked  viciously  as  if  he 
would  have  enjoyed  smothering  it. 

Bettina  drew  a  perceptible  sigh  of  relief. 
She  was  sampling  the  exhilarating  brew  of 
freedom. 

"  That's  over,"  she  said.  "  And  it  will  be  a 
long  time  before  I  ever  get  engaged  again !  " 

He  might  have  answered  that  it  would  be  a 
long  time  before  she  did  to  him,  but  he  thought 
of  that  just  as  the  bus  passed  the  Joan  of  Arc 
statue  on  his  way  home. 

Bettina  went  to  the  dance.    She  was  taken 

there  by  the  cousin  of  a  girl  with  whom  she  had 

gone  to  school,  whose  husband  got  the  tickets 

through  an  artist  he  had  known  in  the  trenches. 

Everyone  gets  Greenwich  Village  ball  tickets 

in  that  roundabout  way.    Why  it  is  so,  is  not 

known. 

17 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Frantically  on  the  last  afternoon  Bettina 
had  searched  for  a  costume.  She  had  vaguely 
heard  that  the  proper  thing  was  considered  to 
be  the  piano  cover  or  a  strip  of  batik,  but  she 
was  not  clever  at  these  things. 

After  prowling  about  the  costume  shops 
near  Forty-seventh  Street  and  Broadway,  she 
paid  twelve  dollars  to  rent  for  the  night  a  prim 
Dutch  thing,  with  lace  cap  and  sabots.  She 
didn't  know  what  she  would  do  with  the  sabots, 
but  bore  her  box  away  in  triumph. 

At  the  door  of  Webster  Hall  they  waited 
while  the  densely  packed  bread-line  in  front  of 
them  clamored  for  tickets. 

Once  in,  she  blinked  at  the  riot  of  color.  The 
dance  was  the  annual  Pagan  Rout,  this  year 
one  blaze  of  gold.  All  the  costumes  were 
golden,  the  walls  were  hung  with  gold,  the  ceil- 
ings  

"  Gorgeous,  isn't  it? "  said  an  easy  voice  at 
her  shoulder.  She  turned,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  that  it  did  not  belong  to  the  cousin,  the 
husband  or  the  relatives  with  whom  she  had 
exchanged  opinions  about  the  weather  on  the 
way. 

18 


A  VILLAGE  BALL 


"  Rather  good  effect.  Better  than  last  year, 
don't  you  think?  "  went  on  the  voice,  which  was 
attached  to  a  pirate. 

"  I  don't  know.  This  is  mv  first,"  answered 
Bettina,  looking  round  her  lace  ear-things  at 
his  black  flapping-topped  boots. 

"  Your  first?  "  said  the  pirate  joyously,  and 
Bettina  saw  no  more  of  her  own  party  that 
evening. 

After  one  dance,  the  pirate  was  gone, 
whisked  away  by  a  Greek  dryad  with  yellow 
finger  tips,  and  Bettina  never  saw  him  again. 
But  at  her  side  someone  else  was  inveigling 
against  Amy  Howell's  theory  of  the  return  in 
polyrhythmic  prose.  He  was  a  sort  of  checker- 
board youth,  done  in  black  and  white,  but  be- 
fore they  could  dance,  the  crowd  parted  them. 
Then  an  Apollo-like  gentleman  as  tall  and  per- 
fect as  a  statue,  without  a  word  swung  past, 
clutched  her  and  swept  her  into  the  fox-trot 
that  was  raging  about  them. 

She  was  bewildered,  but  waited  for  him  to 

open  the  conversation,  for  she  was  not  sure 

enough  whether  or  not  free  verse  was  or  was 

not  too  passe  to  be  discussed. 

19 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


But  the  perfect  dancer  said  not  a  word. 
They  circled  the  crowded  room  again  and 
again.  Then  she  discovered  that  he  was  kiss- 
ing her  hair.  She  was  tall,  but  he  was  taller, 
and  she  would  not  have  known,  surrounded  as 
she  was  by  his  shoulder,  if  she  had  not  seen,  in 
a  mirror  which  they  flashed  past. 

"  To-morrow,  at  four  at  The  Blue  Mush- 
room," he  said,  breaking  the  silence  casually. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon?  " 

"  To-morrow,  at  four  at  The  Blue  Mush- 
room," he  repeated  patiently. 

"Yes,  I  heard."  But  what  about  it?  she 
wanted  to  say,  but  refrained. 

He  danced  on  calmly. 

She  was  puzzled,  but  suspected  that  perhaps 
the  man  was  under  the  influence  of  some  drug, 
heroin  or  one  of  those  interesting  things. 

She  became  a  bit  alarmed,  for  as  there  were 
two  bands  relieving  each  other,  and  in  the 
breath-taking  half  moment  between  dances  he 
went  on  holding  her  and  started  the  next  with 
her  calmly,  she  foresaw  an  evening  spent  in  the 
arms  of  her  dumb  partner. 

"  A  quiet  evening  at  any  rate,"  she  thought, 

20 


A  VILLAGE  BALL 


and  then  blushed  for  her  descent  into  a  lower 
depth  than  puns. 

But  just  as  she  was  resolving  to  shriek  for 
help,  the  checker-board  youth,  appearing  by  a 
miracle,  jerked  her  from  the  statue  and 
whisked  and  pulled  and  pushed  her  through 
some  dance  of  his  own  invention,  telling  her 
the  particular  scandal  about  anyone  with 
whom  they  collided,  in  the  loudest  sort  of 
tones. 

Soon  the  evening  resolved  itself  into  a  haze 
of  color  and  one  pair  of  perspiring  hands  after 
the  other,  one  voice  after  another  mixing 
gossip,  friend,  imagism,  and  compliments  into 
a  heady  draught. 

She  grew  interested  in  the  enumerated  quali- 
ties of  vers  libre  and  her  eyes,  and  decided  that 
she  had  heretofore  overlooked  possibilities  in 
them  both. 

One  found  and  lost  people.  It  was  like  life, 
only  speeded  up. 

After  one  of  the  features,  a  dance  by  Pan 

and  nymphs,  she  saw  the  checker-board  youth 

again.    He  had  been  sitting  at  the  feet  of  two 

bobbed  and  eyebrowed  girls  with  lovely  shoul- 

21 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


ders  and  ankles,  but  he  had  smiled  over  their 
heads  at  the  Dutch  maid  against  the  wall. 

"  Dance  this?"  he  said,  as  one  of  the  two 
alternating  bands  swung  into  a  new  waltz. 

"  I  came  to  dance,"  she  assented. 

They  floated  out,  lost  themselves  in  the 
melee,  struggled  through,  bumped  a  stout  bare- 
footed gentleman  and  his  eye-glassed  partner, 
and  smiled  at  each  other  delightedly.  This 
time  no  one  snatched  either  of  them  away, 
and  since  it  was  a  waltz,  they  had  time  to 
talk. 

"  Live  in  the  Village?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Bettina.  She  wished  she  could 
claim  kinship  with  this  brilliant,  epigrammatic 
race.    But  she  must  be  honest. 

"  Mentally  I  belong  to  about  a  hundred  and 
tenth  street,"  she  confessed. 

He  flashed  her  a  smile.  "  But  fundamen- 
tally—to the  Village? " 

She  smiled  too,  with  a  trifle  of  acquiescence 
in  her  look,  and  in  the  blue  eyes,  not  obscured 
from  him  by  the  curved  lace  flaps  of  her  Dutch 
cap,  the  bit  of  wickedness  she  had  learnt  earlier 
in  the  evening  to  insert  there. 

22 


A  VILLAGE  BALL 


She  looked  at  him  appraisingly.  "  Paint? 
Write?    Act?  "  she  hazarded. 

"  With  the  Provincetown  Players,"  he  an- 
swered the  last.  "  And  for  Harry  Kemp,  only 
he  put  me  out  last  time  because  he's  the  only 
man  in  the  cast  allowed  to  forget  his  lines. 
Monopolist,  with  his  views !  " 

"  But  what  do  you  do  beside? "  she  per- 
sisted. 

A  girl  in  red  who  was  dancing  past  over- 
heard. She  leaned  backward  out  of  her  part- 
ner's arms. 

"  What!  Hasn't  Temp  showed  you  any  of 
his  poems  yet?"  she  laughed,  and  was  swept 
out  of  sight. 

"  Oh,  do!  "  begged  Bettina.  "  I've  always 
wanted  to  meet  a  poet." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  don't  know 
anyone  who  writes?  "  He  led  her  to  a  corner 
of  the  room,  where,  finding  all  the  benches  oc- 
cupied, he  promptly  sat  down  on  the  floor,  and, 
pulling  her  down  beside  him,  produced  some 
crumpled  papers  from  his  sash. 

"  Absurd  about  costumes,"  he  said.     "  No 

pockets." 

23 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Read  it!  "  she  commanded. 

And,  shouting  to  drown  the  frenzy  of  the 
negro  band,  he  read  it. 

"How  wonderful!"  said  Bettina,  her  eyes 
misted  and  big  with  awe.  And  in  that  moment 
he  fell  in  love. 

They  danced  again  and  again,  changing 
partners  now  and  then,  and  making  appoint- 
ments to  meet.  "  At  that  pillar,"  he  had  said 
the  last  time.  "  Down  in  the  left  hand  cor- 
ner," where  it  seemed  to  Bettina  when  she 
went  there  to  wait,  everyone  else  had  planned 
to  meet  also.  The  two  had  to  fight  their  way 
through  to  each  other,  and  missed  the  Russian 
band's  first  bar. 

"  I  thought  you  wouldn't  be  able  to  find  me," 
she  said. 

"  So  did  I,"  he  answered.  "  Would  you 
have  minded? " 

"  Yes,"  confessed  Bettina. 

His  face  lighted  up. 

"  You  dance  so  well,"  she  finished. 

The  light  went  out. 

She  saw  that  she  had  said  the  wrong  thing. 

She  was  much  distressed. 

24 


A  VILLAGE  BALL 


"  I  don't  know  how  one  talks  down  here," 
she  explained. 

"Thank  heaven!"  he  answered,  as  he  dug 
an  elbow  viciously  into  a  stout  lady  in  order  to 
wriggle  into  the  mass  of  dancers. 

"  You're  so  different,"  he  said,  after  they 
had  strugglingly  circled  the  crowded  hall. 

"  It's  you  who  are  different,"  she  breathed, 
and  they  looked  at  each  other  soulfully. 

Time-honored  formula!  After  two  people 
have  found  each  other  "  different  "  there  is  no 
hope. 

As  they  were  caught  in  the  spell  wrought  by 
their  own  rhythmic  feet,  he  bent  over  her  dazed 
face,  and  said  lovely  things  in  a  hushed  voice. 

The  evening  galloped  hilariously  on.  With 
every  dance  the  two  grew  better  acquainted. 
The  dances  with  other  men  began  to  seem  to 
Bettina  mere  interludes. 

Finally,  piloted  by  a  perspiring  partner,  she 
found  herself  seated  in  the  refreshment  room 
at  the  next  table  to  the  checker-board  youth. 

He  tilted  his  chair  backward  to  be  nearer  the 

lace  flap  over  her  ear. 

"  Let's  get  out  of  this,"  he  said. 

25 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Bettina,  seeing  her  iced  lemonade  approach- 
ing on  a  waiter's  tray,  had  a  mighty  longing, 
but  stifled  it. 

"  But  I'm  thirsty,"  she  allowed  herself  to 
say,  as  he  pulled  her  along  by  the  hand. 

"  Come  on,"  said  he.  "  I'll  read  vou  a 
poem."  And  in  the  remark  and  answer  Bet- 
tina might  have  seen  her  whole  possible  future 
life  outlined,  if  she  had  been  wise. 

"  Let's  sit  up-stairs  and  watch,"  he  said, 
pulling  her  toward  the  stairway. 

He  found  her  a  chair  and  leaned  against  a 
pillar  beside  her.  She  rested  her  arms  on  the 
rail  in  the  most  picturesque  pose  she  could 
muster,  and  gazed  down  at  the  dissolving 
picture.  Color,  gayety,  joy!  Ah,  this  was 
life! 

"  It's  splendid  to  live  like  this,"  she  looked 
at  him  enviously. 

"  The  play  spirit,"  said  he. 

She  brightened.  She  had  heard  that  before. 
She  looked  at  his  serious  eyes. 

"  How  wonderful  it  must  be  to  be  a  poet ! " 

"  It  is,"  said  he. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  moment.     They  sur-> 

26 


A  VILLAGE  BALL 


rendered  themselves  to  the  silence,  feeling  it 
draw  them  closer. 

Presently,  "  Shall  I  read  you  a  poem 
now? "  he  asked. 

"Oh,  yes!" 

He  explored  his  sash  again. 


"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes," 

he  began. 

"  Oh,"  she  breathed  ecstatically. 

"  It  is  a  great  poem,"  she  said,  when  he  had 
finished. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  he  answered  earnestly.  "  But 
here  is  one  in  which  I  captured  the  mood  even 
more  completely."  The  reading  went  on  and 
on.    Her  admiration  grew. 

"But  nothing  rhymes?"  she  suggested, 
rather  bewilderedly. 

"  Oh,  rhyme  went  out  long  ago!  Why,  free 
verse  is  so  old  that  no  one  ever  even  fights 
about  it  now.    It's  taken  for  granted." 

He  folded  up  the  last  regretfully.  Such  a 
listener  is  not  always  to  be  had. 

"  Sometime,"  said  he  softly,  "  I  may  do  one 
to  you." 

27 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"Oh!"  Bettina  clasped  her  hands.  Her 
thoughts  went  scornfully  back  to  William 
Clark.  He  had  never  written  a  poem  to  her. 
This,  this  was  being  alive,  at  last.  How  mar- 
velous the  world  was !  She  suddenly  felt  very 
tender  toward  her  mother,  the  cook,  and  the 
news-dealer  at  the  corner  of  their  block. 


28 


CHAPTER  III 

BETTINA  PAYS  FOR  THE  TAXI 

How  Nature  twists  all  things  to  her  need! 
Even  poetry  itself,  she  uses,  as  one  more  of  the 
bits  of  cheese  wherewith  to  bait  the  trap  she 
sets  for  the  unsuspecting  feet  of  the  man  and 
maid  as  yet  unattached. 

The  dance  went  on.  The  music  roared  about 
them,  but  they  did  not  hear.  They  talked  of 
life  and  death,  the  common  subjects  of  gossip 
of  the  young. 

He  showed  her  his  ambition,  and  she  fed  it, 
as  she  might  have  a  pet  dog  he  had  displayed. 

Finally  he  spoke  in  a  hushed  voice:  "  I  could 
be  the  greatest  poet  in  the  world,"  he  said, 

"  If  what?  "  Bettina  breathed. 

'"  If  I  had  you." 

There  was  a  silence. 

29 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Oh,  don't  you  think  you  could,  anyway? ' 
she  asked,  distressed. 

But  it  appeared  that  he  could  not. 

"  You  make  me  feel  things  freshly  again.  I 
see  the  world  with  the  eyes  of  a  child!  You 
make  everything  alive,  because  you  are  so 
alive  yourself ! " 

"  I'm  very  glad,"  said  Bettina,  modestly. 

"  As  soon  as  I  saw  you "  he  began. 

"  I,  too,"  confessed  Bettina. 

They  gazed  at  each  other.  Pierrots  and 
blue-painted  Egyptians  jostled  them,  but  they 
paid  no  heed. 

"  To  live  near  the  springs  of  beauty  always, 
to  feel  the  rhythm  of  life,"  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bettina.  How  right  she  had 
been  to  extricate  herself  from  William's  en- 
gagement ring.  Why,  William  had  no  con- 
ception of  things  like  this.  She  felt  beauty 
laving  her  like  a  pool  in  which  one  bathed, 
making  her  a  part  of  it.  She  seemed  to  breathe 
in  the  atmosphere  of  poetry.  She  was  sure  that 
she  felt  the  rhythm  of  life.  It  was  a  delicious 
feeling,  something  like  being  saved  by  an  evan- 
gelist at  camp-meeting. 

30 


BETTINA  PAYS  THE  TAXI 


"  If  we  hadn't  met,"  said  the  poet,  awed. 

Her  eyes  grew  dark  with  the  horror  of  it. 

"  You  are  the  loveliest  thing,"  he  began. 

"  Hadn't  we  better  dance? "  she  asked  in 
alarm. 

"  Of  course  we'd  better.    Shall  we?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Bettina,  with  the  innocent  big 
eyes  of  girlhood,  "  I  am  a  little  tired." 

He  looked  around.  Then  he  guided  her  into 
the  refreshment  room.  The  party  nearest 
them  were  noisily  receiving  their  orders. 

"  Dearest,"  he  said. 

"  You  mustn't,"  said  Bettina.  "  But  oh, 
do!" 

"  You  adorable  thing! " 

"Don't!"  she  cried  then.  "I  like  your 
saying  these  things,  but  I  don't  think  you 
should." 

"  But  I'm  serious.  Don't  you  see  that  I 
mean  it?  " 

"  Mean  what? "  she  asked  innocently. 

"  That  I'm  madly  in  love  with  you." 

"Oh!" 

"  But  don't  you  like  me?  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

31 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  I  need  you,  your  inspiration,  you !  Marry 
me!— Will  you?" 

"  But  I  thought — Greenwich  Village — free 
love "  she  was  embarrassed. 

"  Oh,  we've  outgrown  all  that,"  he  said.  "  It 
was  only  a  pose.  The  individual,  trying  to 
escape  an  old  convention,  found  himself  more 
firmly  chained  by  a  new." 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  uncomprehending,  but 
polite. 

"Then  you  will?" 

She  looked  into  his  anxious  eves,  and  felt  the 
rhythm  of  life  more  strongly  than  ever. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  faintly. 

He  kissed  her  without  even  looking  round. 

She  liked  the  kiss.  It  had  a  quality  quite  un- 
like one  of  William  Clark's.  This  was  like 
drinking  from  a  mountain  spring,  while  the 
other  was  like  drinking  from  a  teacup. 

He  drew  her  half  behind  the  pillar,  where 

thev  were  sheltered  bv  the  back  of  a  fat  man. 

He  held  her  closelv  to  him.    She  laid  her  head 

on  his  shoulder.    This,  this,  after  all,  was  what 

she  had  wanted.    This  was  the  goal  for  which 

her  restlessness  had  bade  her  blindly  set  out. 

32 


BETTINA  PAYS  THE  TAXI 

And  she  had  won  it !  All  that  she  had  wanted 
would  be  hers. 

She  looked  up  into  his  eyes.  "  How  ex- 
citing it  will  be,"  she  whispered,  "  to  be  mar- 
ried to  a  radical!" 

The  rest  of  the  dance  passed  like  a  parade 
which  one  is  crowded  back  from  seeing.  They 
were  pushed  and  elbowed  away  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  it  by  the  new  and  delicious  emo- 
tions which  they  could  re-manufacture  end- 
lessly, simply  by  looking  at  each  other. 

At  last  the  orchestra,  cruelly  dexterous, 
swung  from  the  waltz  they  were  playing  into 
"  Home,  Sweet  Home."  Neither  the  orchestra 
nor  the  dancers  reflected  that  it  was  a  queer 
tune  to  be  played  at  an  all-night  Greenwich 
Village  masquerade,  for  a  horde  of  dancers 
who  had  no  homes. 

As  its  muted  notes  swept  over  the  room, 
dancers  tightened  their  clasps  about  each 
other's  necks,  girls'  Heads  dropped  to  their 
partners'  shoulders,  and  sleepy  lips  met  sleepy 
lips  in  the  frankest  of  kisses. 

Bettina  and  he  clutched  each  other  in  terror. 

Was  it  over,  then? 

33 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  But  we'll  have  all  our  lives  together,"  he 
whispered  in  tender  comfort. 

Yes,  she  knew.  But  to  cease  touching  him, 
to  cease  feeling  his  touch,  when  the  music 
stopped,  was  like  a  death  to  her. 

She  checked  out  her  wraps,  changed  her 
shoes  and  costume  in  a  dressing-room  crowded 
with  unseen,  sleepy,  powder-puffing  women, 
her  mind  in  a  sweet  confusion. 

She  slipped  down  the  stairs  to  find  him  wait- 
ing for  her. 

"  Why,  it's  light!  "  she  cried  as  they  shivered 
at  the  first  touch  of  the  morning  air. 

"  Of  course — it's  nine  o'clock,"  he  laughed. 
"Breakfast  at  Polly's?" 

"  No,  I  think  I'd  better  just  go  home.  I'm 
sleepy,  and  besides  I  want  to  be  alone — to  re- 
member you." 

A  lone  taxi  hove  in  sight,  and  the  huddled 
crowd  on  the  steps  strove  for  it  like  cannibals 
for  one  insufficient  missionary. 

"  Flag  the  next,"  she  implored. 

They  stowed  themselves  sleepily  into  the 
next. 

As  it  rolled  noiselessly  along  Fifth  Avenue, 

34 


BETTINA  PAYS  THE  TAXI 

toward  her  home,  she  thrilled  at  the  thought  of 
all  that  had  passed  since  she  left  it.  Her  fate 
had  been  met,  her  future  was  arranged,  forever. 

"  Good-night,"  she  whispered,  turning  for  a 
kiss  just  before  the  taxicab  stopped. 

"  Good-morning!  "  he  whispered  back  as  he 
kissed  her,  and  they  laughed  out  happily,  each 
certain  that  no  one  in  the  world  before  had  ever 
felt  quite  like  this. 

"  But  you'll  have  to  pay  for  the  taxi,"  said 
her  suitor,  in  an  undertone.  "  I  haven't  a 
cent." 

If  she  could  have  seen  exactly  the  far-reach- 
ing implications  of  this  beginning!  If  she 
could  have  looked  ahead ! 

But  Bettina,  thinking  no  evil,  paid  for  the 
taxi. 


35 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  IT  WILL  BE  SO  EXCITING  TO  MARRY  A  RADICAL  " 

And  the  next  morning  Bettina  'phoned 
William  Clark,  apologized  very  prettily,  made 
up  the  quarrel,  and  became  reengaged  to  him. 

She  had  learned  a  great  many  things  at  the 
ball  the  night  before — not  all  from  "  Temp," 
and  she  was  putting  some  of  them  into  practice. 

Next  she  'phoned  her  two  most  intimate  girl 
friends,  bribing  them  with  a  promise  of  news, 
and  when  they  came,  theorized  maddeningly 
before  she  told  them,  and  led  them  into  discus- 
sions which  she  fondly  hoped  were  preparing 
their  minds  for  what  she  had  to  say. 

Although  it  was,  decoratively,  modern 
enough,  there  was  nothing  in  Bettina's  bache- 
lor apartment  that  might  shock  one's  mother, 
except  the  conversation. 

Ruth  knew,  no  matter  how  primly  it  started, 

what  the  conversation  was  apt  to  grow  into, 

3o 


SO  EXCITING— A  RADICAL 

since  Bettina  had  become  restless.  She  knew, 
and  yet  she  always  came. 

"  Ruth  is  one  of  those  womenly  women," 
Bettina  said,  "  and  you  can't  keep  them  away 
from  any  place  where  they  think  they're  likely 
to  get  a  man,  a  bargain,  or  a  shock." 

Bettina  was  not  a  womanly  woman,  at  least, 
not  now.  She  considered  herself  utterly  free 
from  feminine  charm.  She  was  resolved  no 
longer  to  do  her  hair  in  papers.  She  would 
strive  to  put  the  wavy  undulations  into  her 
brain  instead.  One  needed  to  exert  oneself  far 
less  for  that,  after  all. 

She  had  never  been  interested  in  the  vote, 
even  when  it  was  out  of  reach.  It  was  in  their 
emotional  life  that  women  needed  to  be  free,  she 
asserted  this  afternoon.  "  The  slavery  of  mar- 
riage !  "  she  said  glowingly.  Not  that  she  had 
anything  against  marriage.  No  girl  has.  She 
did  not  object  to  women  being  in  cages,  only 
she  wanted  them  to  have  an  opportunity  to 
look  leisurely  about  among  the  cages,  and 
choose  the  one  they  would  later  rage  against 
least,  instead  of  popping  into  the  first  whose 

door  happened  to  open  as  they  passed  by. 

37 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Her  blue  eves  were  wide  and  interested,  and 
she  sat  up  stiffly  against  the  yellow  cushions  on 
her  black  couch. 

Ruth  and  Nadine  and  she  had  gone  to  board- 
ing-school together,  and,  after  the  manner  of 
girls  who  have  discussed  tKe  world  of  school  in 
kimonos  and  long  braids,  they  still  met  desul- 
torily to  discuss  the  ways  of  the  not  so  unlike 
world  outside  school. 

The  three  were  very  different.  What 
friends  aren't?  Ruth  Avas  all  that  her  grand- 
mother could  wish.  Nadine  was  emphatically 
not.  Bettina  was  tentatively  feeling  about  life, 
and  had  not  yet  decided  what  to  be. 

Ruth  was  a  small,  precise  person,  "  The  sort 
that's  always  dutiful,  and  self-sacrificing,  and 
cattjr,"  Bettina  said.  But  one  has  to  have  a 
certain  number  of  women  friends  of  that  type, 
she  realized.    They  so  abound. 

Nadine  was  a  new  woman,  almost  too  new. 
One  hesitated  about  her,  as  one  hesitates  about 
using  a  very  new  casserole,  and  finally  chooses 
the  old  chipped  familiar  one.  Nadine  had  been 
married  and  divorced;  and  greatly  changed, 
all  at  once,  embittered  and  made  wise  and  tol- 

38 


SO  EXCITING— A  RADICAL 

erant  by  one  of  the  happenings,  Bettina  could 
never  be  quite  sure  whether  it  was  the  marriage 
or  the  divorce. 

One  forgot  those  things  about  Nadine,  how- 
ever. Her  allure  was  so  obviously  that  belong- 
ing to  girlhood  and  not  to  maturity.  She  was 
a  good  friend,  one  to  count  upon,  and  Bettina 
had  learned  enough  about  girls  in  boarding- 
school  to  know  how  rare  is  a  real  girl  friend. 

Almost  every  woman  is  a  good  pal  to  almost 
any  man.  No  woman  nowadays  is  so  stupid  as 
not  to  know  how  well  it  pays.  But  hardly  one 
is  quite  self-sacrificing  enough  to  deny  herself 
the  civilized,  complex,  subtle  pleasure  to  be 
derived  from  having  a  dear  woman  friend  al- 
ways as  conveniently  by  as  the  cushion  on  her 
dressing-table,  and  for  the  same  purpose. 

Nadine  never  stuck  pins  into  Bettina.  She 
was  one  of  the  few  women  who  have  enough 
sex  attraction  to  be  able  with  impunity  to  prick 
men's  vanity  instead  of  women's. 

Nadine  was  tall  and  dark,  scornful  of  eyes 
and  tone,  quietly  enjoying  life's  irony  as  it  ex- 
hibited itself  in  the  experiences  of  her  friends. 

They  were  perfect  friends  to  have.    Bettina 

39 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


knew  that  Nadine  would  not  steal  any  of  her 
suitors,  and  that  Ruth  could  not.  Her  affec- 
tion for  them  both  was  sincere. 

The  three  were  thoroughly  enjoying  them- 
selves this  afternoon.  They  were  talking  about 
life.  It  is  a  subject  that  is  increasingly  en- 
grossing women.  It  bids  fair  soon  to  be  more 
popular  than  ruffles.  With  Bettina  it  was  al- 
ready. She  was  madly  interested  in  life.  She 
had  only  just  discovered  it  as  a  subject  for  con- 
versation. So  many  people  have.  In  fact, 
with  her  the  discovery  was  not  yet  tweny-four 
hours  old. 

Nadine  was  a  trifle  weary  of  life,  and  Ruth 
thought  being  alive  at  all  somewhat  indecorous, 
but  to  Bettina  it  was  a  new  toy  which  she  in- 
tended to  seize  and  wind  up  at  once.  If  its 
mechanism  was  somewhat  difficult,  she  was 
quite  confident  that  she  could  make  it  work. 
She  only  wondered  how  she  could  have  played 
with  other  things  contentedly  for  so  long. 

And  the  most  fascinating  problem  of  all  was 
marriage.  It  would  be,  because  it  is  the  hard- 
est of  all  to  get  the  right  answer  to.  If  anyone 
ever    does    get    the    right    answer.      Nadine 

40 


« 


SO  EXCITING— A  RADICAL 

thought  no  one  did,  and  that  there  wasn't  any 
answer,  anyway,  and  Bettina  was  too  kind  and 
Ruth  too  unintelligent  to  reflect  aloud  that  it 
was  just  because  Nadine  had  become  mixed  in 
her  figures  half-way  through,  herself. 

"  Women  always  marry  the  wrong  man," 
stated  Nadine,  with  conviction.  "  It's  a  basic 
axiom,  upon  which  all  life  is  built." 

Not  modern  women,"  objected  Bettina. 

The  old-fashioned  women,  who  took  what 
they  were  given — yes.    But  not  feminists." 

"  No  matter  how  people  play  the  game  of 
marriage,  they  always  lose,"  Nadine  answered 
gloomily. 

"  That's  because  they  don't  apply  modern 
methods,"  Bettina  spoke  excitedly.  "  If  they 
would  only  bring  the  scientific  spirit  to  the 
study  of  marriage,  and  not '  go  it  blind.' 

"  But  what  really  do  you  mean  they  should 
do?  "  interrupted  Ruth  impatiently.  Ruth,  be- 
ing the  sort  of  girl  who  is  intended  by  nature 
only  for  a  good  wife  and  mother,  was  always 
impatient  when  anyone  used  big  words. 

"Well,   I'm   tired  of  girls  going  meekly 

up  to  the  altar  and  taking  a  chance  on  a  man, 

41 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


as  we  would  on  a  silver  bonbon  dish  at  a  church 
fair.  That's  what  marriage  is,  anyway,  just  a 
church  fair,  and  the  women  keep  on  coming  to 
buy,  though  they  know  no  woman  yet  has  ever 
got  her  money's  worth." 

"  I  don't  think  you  should  talk  that  way, 
Bettina,"  said  Ruth,  making  her  usual  dignified 
objection,  which  had  no  effect,  but  which  quite 
absolved  her  from  any  blame  for  whatever  Bet- 
tina might  later  proceed  to  say. 

But  Bettina  said  nothing  more  original  than, 
"  Women  always  get  the  worst  of  it." 

"  I  did,"  said  Nadine  laconically. 

Bettina  patted  her  hand.  "  I  wasn't  think- 
ing of  you.  All  women  do.  I  expect  to,  my- 
self. And  that's  why  I  wouldn't  play  by  the 
old  rules,  if  I  ever  did  play." 

"  No? "  Nadine  leaned  over  to  select  an- 
other bonbon.  She  took  the  last  tinsel — un- 
wrapped it.  Nadine  was  always  indulgent  to 
herself  in  the  matter  of  bonbons.  It  was  only 
in  the  big  things  of  life  that  she  was  capable 
of  self-sacrifice. 

"  I  shall  act  with  logic  and  reason,"  Bettina 

continued. 

42 


SO  EXCITING—A  RADICAL 

"  Oh,  Bettina ! "  cried  Ruth.  "  I  knew  you'd 
do  something  unladylike! " 

"  I'm  not  going  into  it  blindly,  as  every  other 
nice  woman  does.  It's  the  method  that's  wrong. 
We  can't  know  what  a  man's  like  until  it's  too 
late  to  exchange  him.    I  intend  to  know." 

"  And  if  you  knew,  you  think  it  would  make 
a  difference?  "  Nadine's  tone  was  only  pleas- 
antly conversational.  "  Why,  if  women  did 
test  men,  they  wouldn't  abide  by  the  test  any- 
way." 

"  I  would." 

"  Yes? "  politely. 

"  Perhaps  I'll  show  you  some  day." 

"  Do,"  invited  Nadine  cordially. 

"  You  think  I'm  just  talking,  and  that  it  will 
never  go  beyond  that !  " 

"  I  hope  it  will  not,"  from  Ruth  promptly. 

"  Women  aren't  so  sentimental  and  blind 
and  illogical  as  you  seem  to  think,  Na- 
dine!" 

"  No? " 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  show  you! " 

"How?"  asked  Ruth  practically. 

"  Well,  I  know  what  girls  should  start  do- 

43 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


ing,  but  they  never  will,  I  suppose.  Girls  like 
us,  I  mean — but  I  intend  to." 

"  What?  "  asked  the  curious  Ruth. 

There  was  a  portentous  silence  in  the  blue 
and  yellow  apartment.  Bettina  sat  up 
straighter  on  the  black  couch.  "  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  trial  marriage?  " 

"  No,"  said  Ruth  hastily,  with  rigid  prim- 
ness. 

"  Then,"  said  Bettina  firmly,  "  it's  time  you 
did." 

"  Quite,"  added  Nadine,  amused.  "  But, 
Bettina,  would  you,  yourself,  go  in  for  trial 
marriage?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bettina,  with  the  holy  look  of 
one  about  to  suffer  martyrdom. 


44 


CHAPTER  V 

BETTINA  AND  THE  ACID  TEST 

Ruth  was  the  first  to  recover  from  the  blow. 
She  did  so  by  assuming  that  there  had  been  no 
blow. 

"  Bettina,  be  practical,"  she  suggested.  She 
swept  away  these  wild  theories  as  something 
that  had  no  more  to  do  with  actual  life  than 
poetry  had,  or  Sunday  thoughts.  She  was  al- 
ways more  interested  in  the  concrete  than  in 
abstract  suppositions,  however  shocking. 

"  You  said,"  she  went  on  plaintively,  '  you 
were  engaged.  And  I  cut  a  date  with  my 
dressmaker  to  hear  what  he  looks  like.  And 
now  you  give  us  a  lecture  on  ethics  or  some- 
thing.   I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what!  " 

"  I  am  engaged,"  announced  Bettina. 

No!" 

Really?" 

45 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Well,"  answered  Bettina,  "  before  I  said 
'  yes  '  or  *  no  *  finally,  of  course  I  said  '  yes  '  at 
first — one  always  does  — 


>> 


"  Who  is  he?  "  cried  Ruth. 

"  They/'  corrected  Bettina  calmly. 

"They!" 

"  Only  two,"  B'ettina  hastened  to  reassure 
them. 

"  Only  two,"  murmured  Nadine.  "  How 
old-fashioned ! " 

Ruth  looked  at  her  with  shocked  eyes.  "  Oh, 
Bettina !  Isn't  it  against  the  law  to  be  engaged 
to  two  men  at  once? " 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder.  Laws  are  so  absurd. 
I  am  thinking  of  looking  into  anarchism.  One 
hears  there  are  any  number  of  interesting  Rus- 
sians at  the  Ferrar  School,  with  curly  hair — 
a  lovely  blue-black." 

"  But  the  two? " 

"  One's  William  Clark.    I've  been  engaged 

to  him  for  ages,  and  I'd  have  told  you  long  ago, 

if  either  of  you'd  been  in  town.    You  know  I 

never  write  letters.    He's  a  lawyer." 

A  lawyer,"  repeated  Ruth  with  approval. 

The  other's  a  poet." 

46 


u 
«« 


THE  ACID  TEST 


"A  poet!"  repeated  Ruth,  not  with  ap- 
proval. 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him? '  Nadine  was 
enjoying  the  poet. 

"  At  Webster  Hall.  Where  does  one  meet 
them?" 

"  A  Greenwich  Village  masquerade?  "  asked 
Nadine. 

"  Yes.  I'd  never  been  before,  so  I  suppose 
it  rather  went  to  my  head." 

"  I  should  judge  so,"  interposed  Nadine 
drily. 

"  Bettina,  you  weren't  at  a  Village  Ball? " 
Ruth  demanded,  aghast. 

"  Yes." 

"  Were  the  costumes "    Ruth,  being  a 

womanly  woman,  was  obliged  to  hesitate. 

"  Yes,  they  were,"  admitted  Bettina  bluntly. 
"  But  the  floor  and  music  were  quite  all  right. 
And  everyone  had  a  lovely  time,  except  the 
barefooted  people  who  happened  to  be  dancing 
with  pirates  or  cowboys  or  something  that  wore 
boots." 

"  How  can  you  talk  about  boots,  when  your 

future's  at  stake?    Tell  us  about  the  poet! " 

47 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  I  can't  think  what  possessed  him  to  ask 
me,"  confessed  Bettina  in  a  puzzled  tone. 

"  Had  he  been  drinking?  "  inquired  Ruth. 
"  For  it's  done  somehow,  even  now,  one  hears." 

"  There's  no  one  so  sarcastic  about  proposals 
as  the  girl  who  never  gets  them,"  observed  Bet- 
tina, with  truth,  but  with  bitterness  as  well. 

"  Oh,  go  on,"  Nadine  waved  off  the  personal 
warfare  impatiently. 

"  Well,"  said  Bettina,  "  you  know  what 
those  Greenwich  Village  Balls  are  like.  Up- 
towners  go  to  them  as  grown-ups  go  to  the 
circus,  making  apologies  all  the  time,  and  pre- 
tending they  don't  want  to,  when  everyone 
knows  they  wouldn't  stay  away  for  worlds. 
And  the  Villagers  go  because  it  doesn't  cost 
anything,  because  they  know  someone  on  the 
committee  and  can  get  tickets  for  nothing,  and 
because  they  can  use  the  studio  rug  for  a  cos- 
tume. It  was  a  lovely  ball.  And  all  the  proper 
men  I  know  were  there,  but  all  the  nice  im- 
proper ones,  artists  and  poets  and  the  people 
that  sit  in  the  basement  at  the  Brevoort  instead 
of  up-stairs,  were  there  too,  and  I  had  to  pre- 
tend not  to  know  the  proper  men  so  as  not  to 

48 


THE  ACID  TEST 


shock  the  poets,  and  not  to  know  the  poets,  so 
as  not  to  shock  the  nice  men.  It's  very  difficult 
attending  a  Village  Ball !  " 

"  But  the  proposal!  "  interrupted  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  yes !  It  was  so  different  from  the  kind 
one  gets  uptown.  Now  when  William  did  it, 
he  led  me  up  to  it  by  talking  in  a  low  tone  about 
his  mother.  From  that  it  was  only  a  step  to 
asking  me  to  marry  him.  I  think  it's  taking 
such  an  advantage  of  us,  don't  you,  for  a  man 
to  tell  one  about  his  dead  mother?  It  makes  it 
so  difficult  not  to  marry  him." 

"  Marrying  him,"  interposed  Nadine, 
grimly,  "  would  have  more  difficulties  if  she 
were  alive." 

"  Yes,  I've  always  been  afraid  of  mothers- 
in-law,"  agreed  Ruth.  "  But  now,  that  voting 
and  things  are  taking  their  attention,  it's  lovely 
for  brides." 

"  Betty,  go  on!    Did  you  sajr  yes?  " 

"  Of  course.    One  always  says  yes,  first.    It 

isn't  wicked  then,  to  let  him  kiss  you,  because 

you're  engaged.    And  then  you  go  home  and 

write  him  a  note  on  pink  stationery  and  tell 

him  it  can  never  be.    But  you've  had  the  kiss." 

49 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Bettina,  how  can  you? '  cried  Ruth  in 
shocked  tones,  but  to  herself  she  reflected,  "  I 
never  thought  of  that." 

"  Ah,  so  he  kissed  you,"  said  Nadine. 

"  Yes,  he  did.  It  was  in  a  corner,  and  some- 
one was  doing  a  dance  with  dyed  scarfs  and 
bare  feet  and  those  Greek  things,  so  no  one 
saw." 

"  What  did  it  feel  like?  "  asked  Ruth. 

"  Not  so  bad  as  one  would  have  thought. 
He  must  have  gone  to  a  co-educational  col- 
lege." 

"  And  so  .you're  going  to  marry  him? "  in- 
quired Nadine  drily. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  have  time  to  decide  that! 
You  know  I  always  wear  peacock  blues  and  I 
don't  know  yet  how  his  hair  goes  with  them. 
There  are  so  many  things  to  be  thought  of. 
One  shouldn't  enter  into  these  things  lightly." 

"  Is  he  a  good  poet? "  Nadine  was  willing 
to  waive  the  discussing  of  the  solemnity  of  mar- 
riage. 

"  A  wonderful  one!    He  never  once  stepped 

on  my  feet." 

"  But  what's  his  name? "  insisted  Ruth. 

50 


THE  ACID  TEST 


"  Why,  I  don't  think  I  heard  his  last  name. 
His  first  name's  Arthur.  Or  Egbert.  Or 
something  like  that.  I'll  ask  him  to-day.  Re- 
mind me,  will  you,  dear?  " 

"  You  don't  know  his  name?  But — you 
don't  mean  you'd  just  been  introduced  to  him 
when  he  proposed ! '  Ruth  was  more  horrified 
than  ever. 

"  Oh,  no." 

"  Oh,"  breathed  Ruth,  relieved. 

"  We  weren't  introduced  at  all. 

"  They  call  him  *  Temp  ' — it's  a  nickname, 
short  for  *  Temperament,' "  Betty  explained, 
still  dreamily. 

"  Humph! "  ejaculated  Nadine. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  they  did  it  to  make  fun  of 
him,"  confessed  Betty  calmly,  "  but  I  don't 
care.    I  think  it's  romantic." 

"  This  is  growing  interesting."  Nadine  took 
another  chocolate,  and  settled  herself  more 
comfortably. 

"  We  just  saw  each  other.     And  we  both 

were  rather  good-looking,  so  we  smiled,  and  he 

came  over,  and  we  danced  quite  often.    And 

afterward,  he  asked  me  to  marry  him." 

51 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  What  was  his  idea?  " 

"  He  said  he'd  be  a  great  poet  anyway,  but  if 
I  would  marry  him  and  inspire  him,  he'd  be  the 
greatest  poet  in  America.  And  he  said,  the 
way  things  looked  now,  it  was  really  one's  duty 
to  do  what  one  could  to  further  the  cause  of 
American  literature." 

"  But  was  that  why  he  wanted  you  to  marry 
him?" 

"  Well,  and  he  liked  the  way  my  mouth  went 
when  I  laughed,  he  said.  And  so  I  said  I'd 
marry  him.  And  he  kissed  me  in  the  opposite 
corner  of  the  room,  while  they  were  having  a 
pageant.  He  did  it  much  better  than  William 
used  to." 

"  But  which  are  you  going  to  marry? " 

"  That's  what  I  had  you  come  for,  to  ex- 
plain." 

"Well?" 

"  It's  just  as  I  said,  I  don't  know  enough 
about  either  of  them." 

"  You  might,  if  you  waited  a  bit,"  Nadine 
advised  mildly. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.    After  all,  what  more  does 


a  woman  know  after  she's  gone  to  dinner  with 

52 


THE  ACID  TEST 


him  every  other  evening  for  a  year,  about  a 
man?    Nothing." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you're  right,"  an- 
swered Nadine  wearily. 
1  am. 

"  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it? " 

"  I  didn't  sleep  all  night,"  confessed  Bettina. 
"  You  see,  I'd  broken  with  William — that's  the 
lawyer.  And  then  I'd  promised  Temp.  But 
the  more  I  thought  of  Temp,  the  more  good 
qualities  I  remembered  about  William,  and  the 
more  I  thought  of  William,  the  more  clearly  I 
could  hear  Temp's  voice — saying  things." 
Bettina's  eyes  became  dreamy.  "  And  so  I 
knew  that  the  only  way  to  be  really  sure,  for- 
ever and  ever,  was  to  test  them  both." 

"  But,  Betty,  some  other  test "  Ruth 

was  scandalized. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bettina,  contemptuously,  "  like 
seeing  which  can  make  a  million  dollars  first." 

"  But  money  does  count.  And  you'll  find  it 
out  some  day,"  vengefully. 

"  I  wouldn't  need  to  test  them  for  that.    I 

know  which  could  make  a  million  dollars  first," 

said  Bettina  gloomily. 

53 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  But  you  want  to  know  which  will  make  you 
happiest? " 

"  Unhappiest,"  corrected  Betty  briefly.  "  I 
prefer  to  find  which  will,  before  he's  had  a 
chance  to  do  it  for  life." 

"  Have  they  agreed  to — take  turns  at  being 
tried? "  Nadine  was  finding  the  affair  in- 
creasingly entertaining. 

Betty  brightened.  "  I  haven't  told  them 
yet,"  she  confessed,  and  then  explained,  cheer- 
fully. "  That's  why  you're  here.  I've  asked 
them  to  call  this  morning  for  their  answers. 
They  should  be  here  now.    You'll  help  me? ' 

"  Betty,  give  it  up!  "  wailed  Ruth.  "  You 
really  won't  try  marrying  each?  " 

"  For  a  month,"  said  Bettina  firmly.  "  And 
then  really  marry  the  one  that  proves  most  con- 
genial. It's  the  only  moral  and  eugenic  thing 
to  do — besides  being  the  most  interesting." 

"  If  you  propose  any  such  thing  to  them," 
warned  Ruth,  "  you'll  shock  them." 

"  You  can't  shock  a  man,"  said  Betty, 
gloomily. 

"  Did  you  tell  William  you  were  engaged  to 
Temp?"' 


54 


THE  ACID  TEST 


"  No,"  confessed  Betty,  rather  shamefaced. 
Then  she  brightened.  "  But  I  will  when  he 
comes.  I  believe,"  she  announced  virtuously, 
"  in  being  absolutely  honest." 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Ruth,  seeing  no  evil,  "  a  girl 
should  be  perfectly  aboveboard  with  men." 

"  Well,"  said  Betty,  judiciously,  "  not  too 
awfully  aboveboard,  if  you  ask  me!  A  man's 
just  like  a  mule.  If  you  use  only  gentleness 
and  sweetness  and  loving  kindness  he'll  never 
notice  your  existence." 

"  They  should  be  here  now,  shouldn't  they?  " 
asked  Ruth,  glancing  too  casually  into  the  mir- 
ror opposite  her  chair,  and  making  dabs  at  her 
hair  delicately. 

"  Yes." 

Ruth  dexterously  hid  her  handkerchief  in 
her  sleeve,  but  not  so  dexterously  that  Betty 
did  not  see.  Then  she  proceeded  to  search  the 
floor  anxiouslv  for  it. 

"  I  believe  I've  left  my  handkerchief  in  your 

room,  Betty,"  she  said  with  a  vexatious  laugh 

at  her  own  carelessness.    "  I'll  run  up  and  get 

it." 

Bettina  and  Nadine  exchanged  glances. 

55 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Gone  to  primp,"  said  the  hostess  briefly. 

"  It's  those  sweet,  retiring,  old-fashioned 
girls  who  make  the  maddest  clutch  after  any- 
thing masculine.  All  this  new  talk  about  effi- 
ciency is  nothing.  They're  the  most  diabolic- 
ally efficient  thing  the  world  has  ever  pro- 
duced." 

Nadine  smiled.  Bettina  went  on  passion- 
ately. "  It's  they  who  make  our  task  so  hard. 
It  never  occurs  to  them  to  try  a  man  out  first. 
They're  a  scourge  to  humanity.  Every  woman 
born  to  be  a  door-mat  ought  to  be  killed  at 
birth." 

Ruth's  step. was  heard,  and  Bettina  stopped 
abruptly. 

"  I  found  it  just  in  front  of  the  mirror,"  said 
Ruth. 

"  I'll  warrant  you  did,"  answered  Betty 
grimly. 

"  Which  is  to  call  first? "  asked  Nadine,  in 
an  effort  to  promote  peace. 

"  William." 

"They'll  never  consent!"  Ruth  insisted. 
"  Especially  the  lawyer." 

Nadine  looked  at  Betty.    "  I  think,"  she  said 

56 


THE  ACID  TEST 


tentatively,  "  you  would  have  been  wiser  to 
have  had  the  poet  first." 

Some  instinct,  or  vision,  or  clarifying  of 
ideas  having  no  connection  with  their  talk,  sud- 
denly gave  Betty  a  realization  of  what  she  had 
been  on  the  verge  of  proposing. 

"  I  can't  do  it !  "  she  cried  out.  "  I'll  not  say 
a  word  to  them !    Perhaps  they  won't  come." 

A  sharp  ring  of  the  door-bell  startled  them. 
The  three  sat  silent,  stricken. 

After  a  pause,  Hilary,  the  maid,  entered. 

"  A  gentleman  to  see  you,  Miss  Bettina." 

Betty  turned  a  stricken  gaze  toward  her. 
Then  she  recovered. 

"  Perhaps  it's  someone  else,"  she  suggested. 
"  What  does  he  look  like?  " 

"  Not  like  anyone  who  ever  came  here  be- 
fore, Miss." 

Betty  wilted.  "  It's  the  poet.  They  always 
look  like  that!" 

At  that  instant  there  came  a  second  loud  peal 
at  the  door. 

Both  of  them ! "  groaned  Bettina. 


€t 


57 


CHAPTER  VI 


"  WELL,"  SAID  BETTINA,  "  I  WAS  THINKING  OF 

A   MONTH  " 


The  inspiration  that  rises  in  the  soul  to  meet 
a  crisis  came  to  Betty. 

"  Tell  them  I'm  out,"  she  whispered. 

"  I've  already  told  the  first  one  you're  in. 
You  said " 

"  Make  them  wait,"  she  groaned,  remember- 
ing.   She  must  gain  time. 

The  maid  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when 
her  mistress  looked  sharply  at  her,  and  stopped 
her  with  a  gesture. 

"  Why,  Hilary,  you've  been  crying.  What's 
the  matter? " 

"  Nothing,  Miss  Bettina." 

Betty  gazed  doubtfully  at  her,  but  since  her 
own  troubles,  for  the  moment,  seemed  enough, 
was  tempted  to  allow  her  to  go  without  further 
comment.    Still,  that  she  was  doing  her  duty  in 

58 


WELL— A  MONTH 


a  big  cause,  should  not  interfere  with  her  duty 
in  lesser  things;  so  she  said  severely: 

"  Are  you  busy  just  now?  " 

Hilary  was. 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  you're  through,  come  di- 
rectly in  to  me.  Do  you  hear? "  giving  her  a 
good-humored  shake. 

The  maid  promised  and  went  out  hastily. 

"  I've  undertaken  Hilary's  education  in 
modern  movements.  I  see  that  she  reads  the 
New  Republic  every  week,  and  I've  explained 
to  her  what  socialism  is." 

"Admirable,"  praised  Nadine;  the  irony  in 
her  voice,  broad  as  it  was,  was  quite  lost  on 
Betty. 

"  They're  probably  sitting  on  opposite  chairs 
in  there,  glaring  at  each  other,"  giggled  Bet- 
tina.    "  Well,  let  them  glare!  " 

"  But  you'll  have  to  see  them  sometime," 
Nadine  pointed  out,  impatiently. 

"  Yes,"  Ruth  urged,  alert. 

Bettina  reached  out  patiently  and  rang  for 
Hilary.    "  Show  them  in,"  she  whispered. 

The  two  callers  entered  at  the  same  moment, 

ushered  in  by  Hilary. 

59 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


The  lawyer  was  too  correctly  dressed,  but 
Temp  had  curly  hair,  so  it  really  didn't  matter 
what  he  wore.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  a 
corduroy  suit  that  looked  as  if  he'd  slept  in  it 
— as,  indeed,  he  had.  Both  men  started  for- 
ward, got  in  each  other's  way,  and  glared  bel- 
ligerently. 

"  Oh,"  groaned  Bettina,  and  shut  her  eyes. 

"  Miss  Howard,"  said  Mr.  Clark. 

"  Betty,"  said  the  poet,  and  in  these  two  ex- 
clamations they  showed  the  difference  in  their 
methods  of  attack. 

"  Is  anything  the  matter? "  they  asked  sim- 
ultaneously. 

"  Water,"  breathed  Betty  faintly. 

Hilary  went  out  quickly. 

"  She  isn't  feeling  very  well  to-day,"  ex- 
plained Nadine  easily.  "  A  little  excited  — 
her  voice  trailed  off. 


>» 


"  I  know,  I  know,"  answered  Temp  quickly. 
He  was  well  aware  of  the  cause  of  her  excite- 
ment. 

Unfortunately  William  Clark  was  con- 
vinced  that  he  also  was. 

"  I  understand,"  he  said  meltingly. 

60 


WELL— A  MONTH 


Betty  groaned  again. 

"  Perhaps  the  corner  drug  store "    Mr. 

Clark  was  already  turning  toward  the  door. 

Hilary,  hurrying  in  with  the  glass  of  water, 
almost  upset  him. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Ruth,  taking  the  glass,  and 
as  she  crossed  to  Bettina,  giving  the  lawyer  a 
gentle,  womanly  smile.  "  You're  so  kind." 
Then  she  knelt  becomingly,  and  pressed  the 
water  to  Bettina's  lips. 

"  I'm  quite  all  right  now,"  whispered  Betty 
bravely.    "  It  was  just  a — shock." 

Temp  glared  at  his  rival.  "  Of  course,"  said 
he. 

The  lawyer  glared  witheringly  back. 

"  I  quite  understand,"  said  he. 

Ruth,  still  kneeling,  addressed  her  friend  in 
the  natural,  sweet-toned  voice  she  used  only 
when  men  were  present. 

"  Are  you  sure  you're  all  right,  now,  dear? " 

Bettina's  voice  came,  still  faint.  "  I  think 
perhaps  a  little  tea — Nadine,  will  you  ring?  " 

Nadine  rang,  and  at  Hilary's  entrance  spoke 

about  the  tea. 

In  the  meantime  Ruth  was  bustling  about, 

61 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


helping  Bettina  from  the  armchair  into  which 
she  had  sunk,  making  her  lie  down  on  the  couch 
and  tucking  Nadine's  best  party  scarf  over  her 
feet. 

The  two  callers  still  glared. 

"  If  you'd  all  not  mind  leaving  me  alone  for 
a  minute?  "  Betty  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  list- 
less. "  You  can  introduce  each  other,"  she  re- 
membered her  duty  as  hostess. 

"  Quite  the  best  thing,"  said  Mr.  Clark. 
"  We'll  go  out  and  talk  together  a  bit." 

"  Yes.  Let's,"  answered  Ruth,  with  a  melt- 
ing glance. 

They  turned  to  leave. 

As  they  all  passed  her,  the  supine  Betty  sud- 
denly shot  out  a  hand  and  clutched  Nadine's 
arm  with  a  vicious  grip.  Nadine  suppressed  a 
cry,  and  stopped.  The  others  went  on.  Betty 
still  lay  like  one  dead. 

"  They're  gone,"  Nadine  whispered,  stoop- 
ing. 

Betty  sat  up  with  the  suddenness  of  an  ap- 
parition. Her  languid  voice  changed  to  one  of 
cool  command.     With  a  quick  glance  at  the 

door  she  said  tensely:  "  Send  the  poet  in  to  me. 

62 


WELL— A  MONTH 


Keep  the  others.  When  Temp  goes  out,  send 
the  lawyer." 

Nadine  raised  her  hand  in  a  salute  and  fol- 
lowed the  others  with  a  grin.  Betty  watched 
her  out,  sitting  up,  tense  and  dynamic.  Then, 
as  the  door  closed,  sank  back  on  the  couch,  and 
closed  her  eyes.  Suddenly  she  came  alive 
again,  readjusted  the  couch  cover  more  effect- 
ively, and  resumed  her  pose. 

Temp  entered  softly.  "  You  adorable 
thing! "  he  breathed. 

Suddenly  forgetting  her  role,  she  sat  up, 
tossing  the  scarf  unceremoniously  into  space. 

"Temp!" 

"  Are  you  going  to  say  *  yes  *  or  '  no '? " 

"  Well,  you  see " 


"  Because  it  really  doesn't  matter!  You'll 
love  me  anyway,  in  the  end !  " 

"  Oh,  Temp !  "  her  voice  became  mellow  and 
tender,  exquisitely  yielding. 

"Most  women  do!"  he  finished  cheer- 
fully. ^ 

Bettina  was  shocked.  She  walked  with  dig- 
nity over  toward  the  window,  and  looked  out 
interestedly. 

63 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  But  they  don't  count,"  he  pleaded. 
"  Nothing  will  ever  count  any  more,  but 
you." 

She  turned  back  forgivingly. 

Temp  ran  his  fingers  through  his  poetic  hair. 
His  voice  was  fervent,  but  honest.  "  If  you 
would  marry  me  I'd  cover  the  paths  of  the 
world  with  flowers  for  your  feet." 

"  How  exciting,"  said  Bettina  placidly  com- 
ing closer,  clasping  her  hands. 

"  I  would  build  a  wall  with  my  arms  to  pro- 
tect you  from  the  world's  hurts.  No  worry 
should  ever  touch  your  pure  white  brow." 
Moving  closer,  he  tried  to  kiss  her  pure  white 
brow. 

She  evaded  him  adroitly,  but  did  not  wholly 
discourage  him.  "  That  would  be  nice,"  she 
said. 

"  My  heart  would  break  if  you  refused  me. 
— Do  you  mean  to  refuse  me?  " 

"  Well,  not  exactly  that." 

"  You  accept  me?  "  he  cried,  transported. 

"  Well,  not  exactly  that." 

"  I  will  make  your  life  one  round  of  joy. 

Will  you  let  me  take  care  of  you  forever? 

64 


WELL— A  MONTH 


Forever!      Forever!"    with    ecstasy    he    re- 
peated. 

11  Well,"  she  said  judicially,  "  I  was  think- 
ing of  a  month." 


65 


CHAPTER  VII 

FOR  THE  GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 

"  Ah — I  beg  your  pardon?  "  he  was  utterly 
taken  aback. 

Bettina  considered  her  manner  of  attack. 

"  You've  heard  about  trial  marriage? ' 

"  I  live  in  Greenwich  Village/'  he  answered 
sadly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  invented  it,  didn't  they?  Al- 
though I  should  have  said  that  Paris  and  Helen 
thought  of  it  first.  At  nny  rate,  I've  decided 
that  it  is  the  sensible,  scientific  thing,  in  fact, 
that  it's  the  only  moral  thing.  I  consider  it  my 
duty  to  my  grandchildren." 

"Your  grandchildren!"  Temp  looked 
around  the  room  in  startled  fashion,  as  if  he 
expected  to  see  them  lurking  about. 

"  All  my  descendents,"  she  answered  de- 

cidedlv.    "  In  fact,  the  race." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes.    Quite  so." 

66 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


"You  don't  object?" 

"Object?  Why  should  I?"  he  said  in- 
dignantly.   "  Certainly  not." 

"  Then  you  do  approve  of  doing  it." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  he  answered  heartily,  even 
enthusiastically. 

She  was  immeasurably  relieved.  "  You 
don't  think  it  in  the  least — improper?  " 

"  Anyone  who  thought  it  improper  would  be 
a  fool!" 

—"Or  a  bit  rash?" 

"  Not  at  all."    His  tones  were  emphatic. 

"  Then  that's  settled,"  she  sighed,  more  re- 
lieved than  ever. 

"  You  dear !  How  wonderful  for  a  woman 
to  decide  a  momentous  thing  like  that  so  sud- 
denly!" 

"  Well,  not  exactly  suddenly,"  Bettina  an- 
swered modestly.  "  I've  been  thinking  about 
it,  off  and  on,  ever  since  last  evening." 

"  But  you  will  really  do  it? "  it  was  he  now 
who  was  anxious. 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  You  have  splendid  courage!  "  his  eyes  ad- 
mired her  courage. 

67 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  That  wasn't  what  Ruth  said,"  Betty  re- 
membered, doubtfully. 

His  whole  pose  was  radiant  with  idealism. 
"  Of  course  you  will  be  criticized.  Little  minds 
will  try  to  hinder  you.  But  don't  let  anyone 
dissuade  you!  Don't  listen  to  what  anyone 
says ! " 

"I  won't!"  cried  Betty,  catching  his  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  Be  brave!" 

"I  will!" 

"  My  darling!  "  his  voice  was  tender. 

"  I  knew  you'd  understand,  and  see  that  it  is 
necessary." 

"I  do!    It  is!" 

"  You're  certain  that  I  ought  to  do  it? " 

"  Certain." 

"  I'm  so  glad.  Because  now  you  can  help 
me  persuade  the  others.  I'm  afraid  that  they 
don't  really  quite  understand.  The  girls 
thought  it  rash,  I  gathered." 

"  I  shall  explain.  I  shall  tell  them  that  it  is 
an  imperative  need  of  your  nature." 

11  Oh,  thank  you  so  much,"  she  said  with  sin- 
cerity. 

68 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


"  Not  at  all.    I  know  what  a  woman's  nature 

is." 

"  I'm  so  glad,"  she  answered  simply.  "  I've 
often  been  a  little  worried  about  it  myself." 

"  Whatever  your  heart  commands  you,  you 
may  safely  do." 

"  I'm  relieved  to  hear  that.  You'll  tell  them 
that  too? "  she  asked,  gratefully,  but  cannily. 

"  Yes,  child.  You  may  trust  it  to  me,"  he 
promised  gently. 

She  broke  in  quietly,  "  I  think,  Temp  dear, 
if  you  left  me  alone  to  collect  my  thoughts  a 
bit  before  they  come  in " 

"  Yes,  yes,  child.  You  need  to  be  alone." 
He  kissed  her  hand,  which  she  extended  some- 
what absent-mindedly,  and  tiptoed  out. 

A  moment  after,  William  Clark  entered, 
carefully  closing  the  door  behind  him. 

"  Miss  Nadine  said  she  thought  I  might  see 
you  for  just  a  moment,  now  that  you've  been 
alone  and  rested.    Do  you  feel  better? ' 

"Oh,   so  much  better,   Mr.   Clark— Will- 


•  5J 

iam. 


"  I  can't  talk  of  anything  else,"  he  said 

simply.     "  Is  it  to  be  '  yes  '  or  '  no '? " 

69 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Bettina  beamed  at  him.  "  I  don't  know. 
But  I've  thought  of  a  lovely  method  of  finding 
out." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

She  explained  in  brisk  tones.    "  You  see  a 
girl's  heart  is   such  a   frightened,   uncertain 
thing,  Mr.  Clark— William." 
I  m  sure  it  is. 

"  It's  so  difficult  to  tell  what  we  really  want. 
— At  any  rate,  it's  so  difficult  to  tell  other  peo- 
ple." 

"  I  quite  see  it." 

"  That  is,  other  people  beside  you." 

"  Precisely." 

"  There,  I  knew  you  wouldn't  disapprove," 
she  purred. 

"Of  what?" 

Her  hesitation  was  scarcely  perceptible. 
"  Have  you  heard  of  trial  marriage?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he  sadly,  "  but  I  was  hoping 
that  you  hadn't." 

"  I  never  had  until  lately,"  she  answered 
brightly.  "  Isn't  it  stupendous  the  number  of 
interesting  things  that  are  kept  from  nice 
women?    It's  so  much  easier  to  make  conversa- 

70 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


tion  at  one's  dinner  parties  now  that  all  these 
things  are  coming  out." 

"  But  you're  not  going  to  make  conversation 
of  this,  are  you? "  He  leaned  forward  in  his 
chair,  alarmed. 

"  No.    I'm  going  to  make  use  of  it." 

"  Miss  Howard!  Betty! "  he  cried,  spring- 
ing up  in  agitation. 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  interested."  Her  blue 
eyes  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

Sitting  down  again,  he  drew  his  chair  closer 
to  dissuade  her. 

"  I  don't  like  to  marry  a  man  until  I've 
found  out  what  he's  really  like,"  she  inter- 
rupted. 

"  But  you'd  never  marry  him  then,"  he 
objected  in  honest  distress.  "  Me,  I 
mean." 


Betty  looked  downcast,  but  brightened. 
"  But  there  are  other  men.  There  must  be 
quite  hundreds.  One  sees  them  on  the  street 
when  one  goes  shopping,"  she  returned  confi- 
dently. 

"  Still,  no  woman  can  test  them  all.  She'd 
spend  her  whole  life  doing  it." 

71 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  But  what  a  way  to  spend  one's  life! "  she 
clasped  her  hands  in  delight. 

"  I  hope  you  aren't  serious,"  he  commented 
stiffly. 

"  Trial  marriage?  But  I  assure  you,"  she 
said  earnestly,  "  it  really  isn't  awful  at  all.  I 
know  a  girl  who  did  it,  and  she  said  it  was  per- 
fectly entrancing.  They  experimented  for  six 
months,  and  they  proved  to  be  so  happy  that 
they  married — but  after  that  they  were  never 
happy  again,"  she  was  forced  to  admit  the 
truth. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Howard — Betty.  I  can't 
approve  of  your  knowing  such  people.  No 
real  man  would  do  such  a  thing." 

"  Wouldn't  you?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"No,"  she  said,  kindly  but  thoughtfully, 
"  you  probably  wouldn't.  I  dare  say  it  takes 
courage." 

"  I  have  courage,  I  hope,"  he  said 
coldly. 

Oh,  I  hope  so  too!  "  she  brightened. 
But  not  that  kind."     He  withered  her 
hopes. 

72 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


"  What  kind  is  it?  "  she  asked,  with  real  in- 
terest. 

He  chose  to  ignore  her  question.  "  You 
must  put  your  foolish  project  out  of  your  mind. 
It  is  wrong.  And  besides,  what  would  your 
girl  friends  think?  " 

"  They'd  hate  me." 

"  Exactly,"  he  said  with  satisfaction. 

"  Because  I  was  having  such  an  entrancing 
time ! "  she  finished. 

He  ignored  her  flippancy.  "  Promise  me 
you  won't  mention  it  again !  " 

"  Then  you'll  not  be  trial-married  to  me? " 
she  asked  mournfully. 

"  No ! "  said  he,  rising  and  stalking  about, 
like  the  hero  he  was. 

"  It's  only  for  a  month,"  she  pleaded. 

"  For  a  month  is  quite  as  bad  as  perma- 
nently," he  pronounced. 

Her  face  cleared.  "  Oh,  would  you  do  it 
permanently? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  coldly.    "  Will  you  marry 

me?  "  he  had  the  air  of  one  who  asks  a  question 

for  positively  the  last  time. 

73 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  You're  willing  to  take  a  chance  on  me? " 
she  said  plaintively. 

"  Yes,  I  am.    Then  why  shouldn't  you  be?  " 

"  But  you  see  a  man  isn't  taking  much  of  a 
chance  on  any  woman.  He  knows  what  she  is 
like  anyway.  We  show  so.  Now,  men  don't. 
One  never  knows  what  they're  like  by  looking. 
Especially  lawyers.  You're  trained  to  deceive. 
How  I  should  love  to  hear  of  a  man  marrying 
a  woman  lawyer,"  she  gloated.  "  But  have 
you  ever  heard  of  one?  You  see,  they  know 
better." 

He  paid  no  attention  to  her  tirade.  He  was 
traveling  with  the  discomfort  common  to 
travelers,  in  his  own  train  of  thought. 

"  You'll  give  it  up,"  he  announced  master- 
fully. 

"  And  marry  you  blind?  Certainly  I  shan't. 
What  with  the  Pure  Food  laws  and  having 
one's  own  scales  in  the  kitchen,  women  to-day 
are  demanding  to  learn  what  they're  getting. 
And  even  if  you  don't,  I  think  husbands  are 
vastly  more  important  than  what  percentage 
of  coloring  matter  there  is  in  baking  powder 
and  how  many  pounds  there  are  in  beefsteak." 

74 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


"  Other  women  take  a  chance." 

"  So  I  understand,"  drily. 

"  But  if  you'd  just  be  logical,"  he  pleaded 
hopelessly. 

"  You've  no  idea  how  it  detracts  from  one's 
looks.  Haven't  you  ever  noticed  the  girls  at 
co-educational  colleges? " 

"  Looks  aren't  everything,"  he  said  gloom- 
ily. 

"  No."    She  gazed  across  into  the  mirror  and 

patted  her  hair.  "  But  they're  nearly  every- 
thing, don't  you  think? " 

"  Betty !  If  I  could  only  prove  to  you  you're 
wrong!"  She  quite  understood  he  did  not 
mean  about  looks. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  with  sympathy  and 
respect.  "  If  anyone  could  prove  right  wrong, 
I'm  sure  you  could." 

He  groaned. 

"  Then  you  won't  do  it,"  she  summed  it  up. 

"  Oh,  I'll  do  it,"  he  surrendered,  irritably. 

"  Anything  to  get  you,  anything!  "  he  said,  still 

half  groaning,  but  determined,  distasteful  as 

the  method  might  be,  to  win. 

At  his  words  she  glowed,  suddenly  a  radiant, 

75 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


triumphant  being.  "  Then  everything's  all 
right  now.    Let's  tell  them." 

"  Good  gracious! "  he  clutched  at  her  arm, 
but  she  had  already  thrown  the  door  open,  and 
the  rest  trooped  in. 

"  I've — I've  made  a  decision,"  Bettina  an- 
nounced, her  eyes  very  grave  and  holy,  as  the 
girls  placed  themselves  picturesquely  against 
her  cushions,  and  the  men  seated  awkwardly 
and  inartistically  in  the  background.  "  And 
T  want  to  tell  you  all  about  it  at  once." 

Temp  watched  Bettina  with  a  gaze  trium- 
phant, bland,  and  self-congratulatory. 

So  did  William  Clark. 

Each  felt  that  she  was  about  to  do  a  very 
fine,  brave  thing  and  that  he  must  help  her 
carry  it  through.  And  each  glowed  with  a 
masculine  vanity  quite  unsuspected  by  his 
heroic  self. 

"  Love's  quite  different,"  Bettina  began  her 
preparatory  speech  simply,  looking  most  ap- 
pealing in  her  best  afternoon  frock  and  her  new 
dignity,  "from  what  it  was  in  our  parents' 
time,  I  think.     Or  else  they  don't  tell  us  the 

truth  about  when  they  were  young." 

*76 


GOOD  OF  THE  RACE 


"  Any  more,"  murmured  Nadine,  "  than 
you'll  tell  your  granddaughter  what  you're  dis- 
cussing to-day." 

"Oh,  but  I  shall!"  Bettina's  eyes  were 
wide  and  indignant.  "  I  mean  that  my  wis- 
dom, hard  won  though  it  be,  shall  be  of  use  to 
her !  I'm  taking  the  one  way  of  learning  any- 
thing that  could  help  her.  The  one  infallible 
guide,"  Bettina  was  marching  along  more  con- 
fidently now.  Trite  ground  is  always  easier 
marching.  "  The  one  infallible  guide  is  ex- 
perience. One's  own,  of  course.  We  can't," 
insisted  Bettina  earnestly,  "  be  saved  from  do- 
ing foolish  things  by  hearing  of  others'  mis- 
takes. That's  what  makes  life  so  full  and  inter- 
esting."    Her  eyes  glowed. 

"  But  you're  so  inconsistent,"  objected  Na- 
dine gently.  "  I  thought  your  experience  was 
to  save  your  granddaughter!  " 

"  And  then,"  Betty  not  only  acknowledged 
the  weakness  of  her  position,  but  went  even 
further,  "  judging  by  Mendell's  rules,  and  by 
tendencies  and  throwbacks  and  all  that,  I  ought 
to  have  a  very  proper  granddaughter."     She 

pondered. 

77 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Still,"  she  said  brightly,  in  a  moment,  "  one 
shouldn't  think  only  of  one's  own  personal 
granddaughter,  should  one?  And,  anyway, 
I've  quite  made  up  my  mind." 

"  And  his?  "  asked  Nadine  in  a  whisper. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Bettina,  quite  unconscious 
of  anything  amusing. 

"  Trial  marriage?  "  asked  Nadine. 

"  Yes." 

"  When? " 

Both  men  looked  at  her  expectantly. 

"At  once,"  her  voice  was  firm. 

Both  men  seemed  pleased. 

"  And  I'm  sure  you  all  agree  with  me  it's 
quite  the  thing  to  do." 

"  Quite,"  said  Temp  in  emphatic  tones. 

"  Quite,"  answered  William  Clark,  in  tones 
no  less  emphatic. 

The  girls,  being  speechless,  were  understood 
as  acquiescing. 

"Then  that's  settled,"  said  Bettina  again, 
this  time  with  a  final  and  satisfied  sigh.  "  I'll 
try  a  month  with  each." 


78 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BETTINA  TAKES  HER  HAT  AND  GOES 

"What!"  Both  men  sprang  from  their 
chairs  at  the  same  instant. 

Bettina  was  amazed.  "  Why,  you  said  you 
approved!"  she  reproachfully  fixed  her  hurt 
eyes  on  each  of  them. 

"  But  not  with  him! "  both  shouted. 

"  It's  outrageous! "  gasped  William  Clark. 

"  But  you  just  promised  to  do  it,"  marveled 
Bettina. 

"  It's — it's  immoral,"  stuttered  Temp. 

She  turned  amazed  eyes  upon  him.  "  You 
just  said  it  wasn't!  " 

"  But  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  try 
it  with  him!" 

Both  men  talked  at  once,  in  tones  of  horror 

and  mounting  rage. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina. 

79 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  The  way  of  the  reformer  is  hard,"  mur- 
mured Nadine. 

"It  is  the  principle  of  the  thing  I  care 
about,"  announced  Betty  firmly,  getting  the 
reins  in  her  hands  again.  "  If  you  two  don't 
want  to  experiment  for  the  good  of  humanity, 
I  don't  doubt  that  I  can  find  someone  else  who 

wm." 

The  two  were  frozen  into  silence.  They  did 
not  doubt  it  themselves. 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  Temp,  in  a  small  voice. 

"  And  I,"  added  William  Clark  meekly. 

Bettina  went  on,  calmly  ignoring  their 
misery. 

"  You  live  with  such  utterly  different  back- 
grounds. I  shall  never  know  unless  I  tried 
each,  which  I  preferred.  First  I  shall  go  to 
Greenwich  Village." 

She  did  not  notice  the  collapsed  appearance 
of  the  spruce  and  dapper  Mr.  Clark. 

"  The  Village,"  corrected  Nadine.     "  Time 

was  when  it  was  '  Greenwich  Village,'  but  now 

to  say  anything  but  the  Village,  places  one  at 

once  as  not  being  of  the  elect." 

"  Not  there! "  pleaded  Mr.  Clark. 

80 


BETTINA  GOES 


"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  it's  as  interesting  as  you 
think,"  Betty  reassured  him,  while  Temp  took 
up  a  proprietary  position  at  her  side.  "  I 
heard  that  people  kissed  at  the  Brevoort.  So 
I  went  there  with  a  party,  and  we  all  sat  there 
all  evening,  eating  the  most  amazing  assort- 
ment of  things." 

"  Didn't  you  see  even  one  kiss? "  asked 
Ruth. 

"  One."  Betty  was  truthful,  but  she  added 
in  a  tone  of  disappointment,  "  But  I  was  told 
afterward  that  they  were  married." 

"  Betty!  Give  it  up! "  Clark  came  nearer 
and  spoke  pleadingly. 

"  Our  parents,"  Betty  told  him  in  her  best 
lecture  tones,  "  used  to  learn  from  books.  This 
generation  believes  in  the  laboratory  method." 

"  But  why  don't  you  really  marry? "  Clark 
would  rather  give  her  up  than  countenance 
such  rashness.    "  It's  more  decent." 

"  Are  you  sure,"  Betty  turned  to  him  inter- 
estedly, "  or  did  you,  like  Thompson,  get  it  out 
of  a  book?" 

"  He  couldn't,"  interjected  Nadine,  looking 

across  at  Clark  pityingly.    "  Most  books  now- 

81 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


adays  are  written  to  show  how  indecent  mar- 
riage is." 

"Really!"  William  was  in  distress.  He 
turned  on  the  two.  "  Didn't  your  mothers 
teach  you  there  are  some  things  too  sacred  to 
be  mentioned? " 

"  But  it  was  you,  William,  who  mentioned 
marriage  first,"  Betty  pointed  out  truthfully. 

"  But  to  think  of  your  talking  about  trial 
marriage! " 

"  Don't  be  shocked,"  Bettv  comforted  him. 

It  isn't  as  if  I  were  only  talking  of  it,  to  make 


a 


conversation.    You  see,  I'm  really  going  to  do 
it." 

He  groaned. 

Ruth  felt  for  him.    She  pleaded  with  Betty. 

"  People  will  cut  you." 

"  We  won't  see  them." 

"  All  uptown  goes  slumming,"  Nadine  re- 
minded her.  "  One  meets  one's  mother's 
schoolmates  in  every  tea-room." 

"  Yes,  but  we  won't  be  in  tea-rooms.  You 
see  I'm  marrying  a  Villager.  And  no  Villager 
ever  frequents  the  Village.  It's  like  the  Wool- 
worth  Tower — it  only  appeals  to  outsiders.' 

82 


» 


BETTINA  GOES 


"  Where    are    the    real    Villagers,    then? " 
Ruth  wanted  to  know. 

"  In  their  studios,  I  suppose,"  answered 
Betty. 

"  More  likely  in  each  other's,  from  what  one 
hears,"  murmured  Nadine. 

There  was  a  strangled  sound  from  Will- 
iam. 

"  Betty,  honey,"  he  pleaded,  with  the  world- 
old  power  that  does  not  depend  upon  logic,  but 
upon  eyelashes  and  things.  "  We're  all  being 
hysterical.  Let's  let  all  this  go."  He  looked 
very  handsome  and  very  much  in  love.  It  is 
difficult  to  tell  which  is  the  more  moving  to  a 
girl. 

Bettina  visibly  weakened. 

Then  Temp  bent  over  her.  If  William  was 
handsome  at  the  moment,  what  could  be  said 
of  Temp?  He  looked  a  young  god,  negli- 
gently lighting  on  earth  for  a  few  idle  mo- 
ments. One  wanted  to  clutch  him  and  take  no 
chances. 

"  Let  someone  else  experiment,"  he  sug- 
gested, looking  down  beneath  all  the  ordinary 

things  in  her  eyes,  and  stirring  up  things  from 

83 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


the  deeps  that  had  never  come  to  the  surface 
before. 

It  wasn't  what  he  said,  but  the  wonder  of 
that  look. 

The  others  wisely  rested  their  case.  There 
was  a  silence.    Betty  sat,  thinking  it  all  over. 

They  waited  a  long  time.  Then,  "  I'll  give 
it  up,"  she  renounced  many  things  in  that  sigh, 
but  she  was  cheerfully  courageous,  and  deter- 
mined not  to  mourn.  She  meant  to  be  a  good 
loser. 

Her  sigh  was  echoed  by  four  others,  pal- 
pably of  relief. 

She  rose,  and  shrugged  the  burdens  of  hu- 
manity from  her  shoulders  with  a  gesture  which 
she  must  have  known  was  becoming. 

"  Well,"  she  said  briskly,  in  a  voice  that 
advertised  her  readiness  to  let  bygones  be  by- 
gones, "  shall  we  have  some  tea?  "     She  rang. 

Hilary  answered.  From  the  way  she  came 
into  the  room,  one  could  see  that  she  had  ex- 
pected Betty  now  to  be  alone.  Her  cheeks 
were  swollen,  her  eyelids  still  clinging  moistily, 
and  her  usual  effacing  calm  was  routed. 

Betty  went  to  her  at  once. 

84 


BETTINA  GOES 


There  was  a  murmur  of  explanation  and 
vague  comforting. 

"He's  left  me!"  the  others  could  hear. 
"  And  even  taken  the  silver!  " 

"  Her  husband.  Her  wedding  silver," 
Betty  explained  briefly,  turning  dramatically 
to  the  others. 

A  sympathetic  murmur  answered  her. 

"  And  I  saw  them  married.  A  veil  and 
everything.  With  two  rings,"  enumerated 
Betty  viciously.  She  put  her  arm  protectingly 
about  her  weeping  maid's  shoulders,  and  faced 
the  world. 

"  This  is  what  happens  when  one  gets  prop- 
erly married !  "  she  cried.  "  Now  you  see ! 
This  proves  how  necessary  it  is  to  test  them 
first!" 

Nadine  turned  a  look  of  distaste  and  enu- 
merating scorn  upon  her  hostess'  two  suitors. 
She  seemed  to  be  summing  up  their  faults. 

"  Still,  I  don't  believe  they'd  steal  your  sil- 
ver, Betty,"  she  murmured  reflectively. 

Bettina  took  no  notice. 

"  This  is  the  way  it's  always  been !  "  she  cried 
furiously.    "  Someone's  got  to  do  something! " 

85 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


All  was  lost.  She  was  determined  to  go  ahead 
with  her  plan,  and  this  time  she  was  not  to  be 
diverted. 

William  realized  it,  and  groaned  audibly. 

Bettina  looked  at  him  with  the  calm,  dis- 
secting eye  of  a  physician.  "  And  I  think," 
she  announced,  "  that  the  sooner  it's  all  over 
the  better.  So,"  she  turned,  "  if  you  don't 
mind  waiting  a  minute,  Temp,  I'll  come  right 
down  to  the  Village  with  you  now." 

Quite  ignoring  the  limp  conditions  of  her 
auditors,  she  turned  to  go  up-stairs. 

"  I'll  just  get  my  hat."  She  paused  in 
thought.    "  And  my  purse,"  she  added. 


86 


CHAPTER  IX 

BETTINA  LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 

Nibblers  of  lotus!  So  Bettina  had  always 
thought  of  them,  with  a  sort  of  pleasant,  lan- 
guorous envy,  having  no  suspicion  that  eternal 
lotus  lunches  get  on  one's  nerves.  Even  the 
Villagers  themselves  seldom  know  that  what  is 
the  matter  with  them  is  indigestion  due  to  over- 
indulging in  lotus  leaves. 

Bettina  had  been  eating  lotus  for  a  week,  and 
liked  the  taste.  She  had  been  accustomed  for 
some  years  to  spending  her  energy  in  work, 
and  she  found  it  just  as  hard,  but  so  much  more 
interesting,  to  spend  it  in  discussion. 

She  learned  to  grow  madly  excited  over  the 

question  of  whether  Kreymborg  and  Areus- 

berg  had  done  anything  significant  in  vers  libre 

or  were  merely  poseurs,  and  which  was  the 

more  hopelessly  reactionary,  Harriet  Monroe 

or  Margaret  Anderson. 

87 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


She  grew  used  to  being  taken  about  to  messy 
studios,  and  searching  horrible  daubs  on  canvas 
not  yet  dry,  for  elusive  meanings. 

She  played  a  system.  She  had  three  re- 
marks, which  she  used  in  rotation,  and  if  there 
chanced  to  be  a  fourth  painting  or  tortured 
lump  of  clay  to  be  viewed  she  threw  her  soul 
into  her  eyes  and  stood  silent,  visibly  moved 
beyond  words. 

She  was  very  popular  in  the  Village.  Not 
being  engaged  in  making  masterpieces  she  had 
time  to  be  civil  to  those  who  were.  And  the 
edge  of  hearing  people  argue  had  not  yet  worn 
off  for  her. 

She  was  neither  cultivated  enough  nor  impo- 
lite enough  to  see  through  anything,  which 
made  it  lovely  for  everybody,  especially  Temp. 

This  evening  they  were  spending,  as  usual, 
in  the  tea-rooms  of  the  Village,  with  the  cup 
that  cheers  and  the  talk  that  inebriates.  They 
usually  circled  about  from  one  to  another,  hav- 
ing a  dance  here,  and  a  cup  of  tea  there,  but  to- 
night they  had  wandered  down  Christopher 
and  decided  to  spend  the  evening  at  twenty- 
one. 

88 


LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 


As  Temp  knocked  at  the  door,  and  Romany 
Marie  herself  in  her  gypsy  costume  admitted 
them  to  the  riot  of  color  and  talk,  Betty  gasped 
with  the  surprise  that  a  week  had  not  dimmed. 

The  checker-board  youth  now  looked  inde- 
scribably statuesque  in  his  wrinkled  corduroys, 
with  his  wavy  blond  hair  quite  unsubdued,  and 
she  liked  being  seen  with  him.  He  led  her  to  a 
place  at  a  low,  long  table. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  whispered  with  a  striking 
fervor,  as  he  helped  her  out  of  her  coat,  and 
looked  glowingly  into  her  eyes. 

The  phonograph  was  filling  the  tobacco- 
laden  room  with  a  gay  gypsy  air. 

"  This  is  life!  "  thought  Bettina  again,  with 
a  scornful  memory  of  William  Clark. 

She  sat  pensively  at  the  red  and  black  table ; 
and  listening  to  Temp's  poetic  voice  order- 
ing things,  she  mechanically  got  ready  her 
purse. 

"And  goat's  meat,"  said  her  escort,  and  a 

little  later,  "  Turkish  coffee."     She  went  on 

listening  dreamily,  half  to  him,  and  half  to  the 

murmuring  groups  about  her. 

'Atmosphere!"  she  said  to  herself  ecstatie- 

89 


u 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


ally.  "Atmosphere!'  and  felt  that  at  last 
everything  had  come  right  in  her  life. 

She  moved  a  purple  candle  a  bit  to  one  side, 
and  smiled  across  the  red  and  black  table  to 
Temp. 

He  gazed  at  her  ardently.  "  Shall  I  read 
you  a  poem? "  he  asked. 

"  Do,"  she  assented.  It  is  so  easy  to  keep 
one's  husband  happy  in  the  Village. 

But  he  had  no  sooner  smoothed  out  the 
wrinkled  bit  of  paper  from  his  pocket  than  they 
were  surrounded  by  a  blase  party  of  habitues 
who  were  bored  with  each  other,  and  forced  in 
desperation  to  attach  themselves  to  any  new 
victims. 

Temp  eyed  them  with  a  melancholy  gaze. 
They,  being  poets  and  things  themselves,  would 
give  him  no  applause.  From  the  uptowners 
alone  comes  the  Villagers'  moral  support.  He 
put  the  crumpled  paper  sadly  back  into  his 
pocket. 

Marie  brought  viands,  lovely,  colorful  things 
as  vivid  and  different  as  herself;  and  the  con- 
versation grew  in  volume,  Bettina  crying  out 

as  excitedly  as  anyone. 

90 


LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 


Talk!  It  was  what  they  lived  on.  Their 
eyes  brightened,  their  faces  glowed.  Bettina 
could  not  know  that  those  who  "  hit  the  pipe  " 
of  conversation  are  just  as  surely  drugged  as 
the  victims  of  commoner  and  more  legislated- 
against  substances.  She  had  noticed  at  first 
that  their  actions  were  strange,  but  she  hardly 
realized  that  she  herself  was  so  soon  showing 
the  effects  of  indulgence. 

School  teaching  and  such  steady  things 
seemed  already  hazy,  unreal.  The  drug  had 
got  her.  Unless  she  pulled  up  she  would  be  as 
incapable  of  getting  back  to  normal  life  as  the 
other  moths  that  gather  nightly  around  the 
flame  of  the  candles  of  Sheridan  Square. 

But  Bettina  was  not  an  introspective  soul. 
She  had  never  even  been  psyched. 

She  believed,  with  Henley  and  the  orthodox, 
that  she  was  the  captain  of  her  soul,  but  she  had 
never  studied  up  on  navigation.  So  she  drifted 
happily  on,  and  did  not  realize  that  the  Village 
was  closing  round  her,  like  a  sleepy  amoeba, 
and  hungrily  making  her  a  part  of  its  amor- 
phous self. 

She  only  knew  she  was  having  a  good  time. 

91 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


She  had  not  been  lazy  for  a  long  while,  and  she 
particularly  enjoyed  the  sensation. 

With  Temp  and  his  friends  it  had  long 
ceased  to  be  a  sensation,  and  was  a  permanent 
state.  It  had  become  a  necessity  to  them,  but 
had  lost  its  thrill.  They  enjoyed  her  fresh 
young  enthusiasm. 

Bettina  was  having  the  slang  phrases  of  the 
proletariat  explained  to  her,  but  she  usually 
forgot  them  later.  She  was  learning  more 
about  freedom.  She  had  always  known  that  it 
had  something  to  do  with  smocks,  but  hadn't 
known  exactly  what. 

She  was  finding  out  to-night  more  about  the 
class  war,  and  class  consciousness,  and  things 
like  that. 

But  she  was  bewildered;  rather  lost  in  the 
tangled  streets  of  this  new  paradise  into  which 
they  were  leading  her.  She  had  always 
thought  that  the  people  in  smocks  hated  the 
rich — the  capitalists,  she  corrected  herself  me- 
ticulously in  her  thoughts.  But  now  it  seemed 
that  they  did  not  hate  them  at  all.  They  had 
one  hate  and  only  one:  the  bourgeoisie.    And 

that  was  what  she  was  one  of.     It  was  strange. 

92 


LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 


She  could  see  why  they  might  hate  the  capital- 
ists, that  was  logical  enough,  but  why,  with  one 
accord,  all  the  "  thinking  people  of  the  world  " 
should  turn  and  rend  (in  their  hearts,  at  least) 
the  apparently  inoffensive  bourgeoisie  was 
mysterious. 

She  wondered  what  was  the  matter  with  the 
bourgeoisie. 

But  she  did  not  dare  ask.  She  had  heard 
that  if  one  listened  long  enough  one  would  be 
enlightened  without  needing  to  ask.  But  she 
had  listened  a  veiy  long  time  and  had  not 
found  out  what  it  was  that  was  the  matter  with 
them.  She  was  sure  Temp  must  know.  But, 
being  one  herself,  she  rather  hated  to  ask 
Temp.  So  she  merely  squeezed  his  hand  under 
the  table. 

He  returned  the  pressure,  though  his 
thoughts  at  the  moment  were  with  Krupatkin. 
That  is  the  lovely  thing  about  Village  men: 
thev  are  the  onlv  ones  who  can  combine  their 
business  and  their  love-making.  Their  busi- 
ness being  to  talk,  and  getting  transacted 
mostly  in  tea-rooms,  where  the  groups  about 

the  tables  include  earnest  girls,  though  not  too 

93 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


earnest  to  know  the  most  effective  things  to  do 
with  eyes. 

Greenwich  Village  is  to  the  intellectual  world 
what  California  is  to  retired  financiers — a  play- 
ground, a  reward,  a  vantage  ground  from 
which  to  pity  the  toiling  rest  of  the  world  who 
have  not  yet  arrived  there. 

Bettina  looked,  with  the  eyes  of  a  Villager, 
back  at  her  old  self  in  amazement  and  scorn. 
She  wondered  how  people  could  be  like  that, 
and  why  something  wasn't  done  to  dispose  of 
them. 

How  wonderful  of  Temp  to  have  rescued 
her!  She  slid  her  arm  over  until  their  shoul- 
ders touched. 

After  all,  why  shouldn't  she  find  out 
now? 

"  But  why  is  it  the  bourgeoisie  we  hate?  "  she 
asked. 

But  no  one  answered.  The  discussion 
was  racing  past  her,  leaving  her  dizzily  be- 
hind. 

"  What  have  they  done?  "  she  inquired  con- 
fidentially of  the  young  man  who  sat  on  the 

other  side  of  her. 

94 


LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 


He  waved  his  hands,  as  if  what  they  had 
done  were  too  well  known  to  need  explanation. 
"  They're  such  guinea-pigs !  "  he  added. 

"  IVe  not  a  doubt  of  it,"  Bettina  said.  "  But 
exactly  what  — 


j> 


It  was  of  no  use.  The  young  man  was  de- 
claiming with  the  rest,  in  an  instant,  about 
things  which  Bettina  didn't  know  about  in 
terms  which  she  had  never  heard. 

She  looked  about  at  the  other  tables,  hop- 
ing, in  desperation,  to  find  someone  like  herself. 
Not  that  she  wanted  to  talk  to  such  a  person, 
but  it  would  be  a  comfort  just  to  know  if  one 
were  there. 

But,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  everyone 
was  talking,  excitedly,  madly. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  Bettina. 

Finally  the  young  man  took  notice  of  her 
again. 

"  Write?  "  he  asked.  And  before  he  could 
ask  her  the  list  of  other  things, 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered  hurriedly.     Then, 

with   her   new-found    experience   of   people, 

thinking  it  might  be  a  prelude  to  a  poem,  she 

added  politely, "  But  I  like  to  listen." 

95 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


However,  the  young  man's  hand  did  not  go 
to  his  pocket. 

He  glanced  toward  Temp.  "  I  dare  say 
you're  kept  rather  busy  these  days?  " 

Guilelessly  Bettina  accepted  this  as  a  mere 
attempt  at  being  nice  to  her. 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  she  said.  "  We've  been  telling 
each  other  the  history  of  our  lives,  like  the  Tro- 
jans, or  was  it  Trojans?  in  the  Iliad,  or  was  it 
the  Odyssey?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  the  young  man  sym- 
pathetically. "  My  mythology  is  like  that 
too." 

They  smiled,  and  Bettina  began  to  feel  more 
friendly  toward  his  political  theories. 

And  just  then  someone  called  him  from  an- 
other table,  and  the  young  man  had  to  go. 
Life  is  like  that. 

Bettina  saw  him  fish  helplessly  for  a  moment 
in  a  chaotic  heap  of  wraps,  pull  out  a  coat  and 
hat,  and  leave  with  another  man.  She  never 
saw  him  again. 

That  was  the  worst  of  the  Village,  she  re- 
flected mournfully,  it  was  just  one  long  ball,  in 

which  one  lost  one's  momentary  conversational 

96 


LUNCHES  ON  LOTUS 


partners,  in  the  crowd.  Even  husbands  and 
wives,  she  heard. 

Bettina  had  been  looking  about  since  she  had 
come  downtown.  One  walked  in  and  out  of 
the  marriage  state  unconsciously,  it  seemed. 
It  wasn't  so  bad  being  married,  she  saw. 
Everyone  either  had  been,  or  was  about  to  be. 
Like  seeing  a  snake  slough  his  skin;  she  never 
seemed  able  to  discover  anyone  who  was  in  the 
present  state  of  being  married.  Lately,  that 
is,  she  hadn't  been  able  to. 

Life  was  becoming  very  complicated. 


97 


CHAPTER  X 

FOR  A  TIME 

The  door  opened  again  to  let  in  an  array  of 
startling  color.  One  could  always  tell  at  a  dis- 
tance the  slummer  from  the  slummed  by  the 
color  they  wore.  Uptowners  dress,  as  a  rule, 
rather  sadly,  while  the  Villager  has  a  gaudy 
taste  in  dyes.  Whether  due  to  Robert  Ed- 
mund Jones,  or  the  Liberal  Club  masquerades, 
color  has  come  into  its  own. 

"Hello,  Paula!" 

"  Come  on  over!  " 

Their  table  having  more  lung  power  than  the 
others,  the  three  newcomers  crowded  into  the 
scanty  space  on  the  bench  beside  Bettina. 

There  were  introductions,  which  cleared  up 
nothing,  as  no  one's  last  names  were  ever  given, 
and  one  usually  mixed  up  the  first  ones  any- 
way. 

The  one  in  the  orange  smock  seemed  to  be 

98 


FOR  A  TIME 


Paula  and  to  write  poetry  and  Betty  gathered 
that  the  one  in  the  purple  and  green  hand- 
woven  gown  was  Petra  and  the  red  one  Nessa. 
Temp  himself  had  introduced  her  to  Paula, 
proudly. 

Paula,  sitting  next  Bettina,  beamed  at  her. 

"  Husbands  are  so  in  the  way,  aren't  they?  " 
she  remarked  cordially.  "  I  know  Bob  is.  I 
couldn't  get  any  writing  done.  I  thought  up 
all  sorts  of  things.  One  of  nry  friends  got  him 
to  act  in  the  Provincetown  Players,  and  re- 
hearsals gave  me  a  blessed  series  of  evenings  in 
peace,  but  finally  the  plays  came  off,  and  then 
there  were  no  more  rehearsals."  Her  voice 
was  aggrieved  and  mournful. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina. 

Her  neighbor  nodded  in  unhappy  confirma- 
tion. "  I  was  at  my  wits'  end."  Her  face 
brightened  and  she  lowered  her  tones  confiden- 
tially: "Now  I  have  hired  Stella  Palmer  to 
flirt  with  him.  Yes.  I  pay  her  so  much  a 
week.  She  takes  him  around  to  tea-rooms  and 
lets  him  read  poetry  to  her.  And  you  can't 
imagine  the  amount  of  work  I  get  done." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina. 

99 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


She  remembered  now  who  Paula  was.  A 
very  well-paid  magazine  poet,  who  wrote 
mushy  verse  as  a  job,  and  soulful  lovely  things 
for  nothing  for  "The  Quill"  and  "The 
Pagan."  She  had  done  a  novel  or  two  also, 
and  Bettina  remembered  Temp  mentioning 
that  she  was  working  on  one  now. 

"  The  only  trouble  is,"  Paula  was  saying, 
sadly,  "  I'm  afraid  he'll  get  bored  with  her  be- 
fore the  last  chapter's  done.  I'm  only  on  the 
third  now" 

Bettina  was  wondering  helplessly  exactly 
what  one  was  supposed  to  say,  when  she  was 
saved  the  trouble  of  answering. 

A  lanky  man  with  tortoise-shell  glasses, 
which  gave  him  a  whimsical,  arresting  appear- 
ance, had  come  in,  carrying  a  ukelele  painted 
in  village  colors  with  a  startling  cat,  and  a  sort 
of  mixed  up  totem  pole  effect. 

"  Good!  It's  Bobby  Edwards!  "  explained 
a  Spanish-looking  novelist  opposite  Bettina. 

"  He  makes  them  out  of  cigar  boxes,"  he 
added,  seeing  her  eyes  on  the  cat. 

"  Have  you   ever  heard   Bobby   Edwards 

sing?  "  Nessa  asked  her. 

100 


FOB  A  TIME 


"  He  never  really  says  anything  shocking  in 
his  songs,  but  he  always  looks  as  if  he  were  on 
the  verge  of  it.  So  people  sit  about,  hoping. 
For  hours." 

The  room  had  grown  silent.     Hoping. 

But  Bobby  seemed  unaware  of  the  presence 
of  anyone  save  the  two  or  three  cronies  about 
him. 

He  raised  the  ukelele  casually. 

The  room  caught  its  breath. 

He  laid  it  down  again. 

The  room  sighed  sadly. 

"Oh,  why  doesn't  somebody  make  himl" 
Betty  was  savage  with  desire. 

"  You  can't  make  him  do  anything,"  said  the 
novelist  dolefully.     "  He's  an  artist." 

The  hum  of  conversation  had  begun  again. 
Bettina  heard  bits  of  sentences,  love-making, 
quarrels. 

"  I  don't  really  love  him,"  Petra  was  tell- 
ing Nessa,  reflectively.  "  But  if  I  go  to 
a  play  with  him,  I  would  much  rather  it 
would  be  one  with  a  scene  played  in  the 
dark." 

Then  their  amateur  psychology  was  blotted 

101 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


out  by  the  novelist's  loud  experience  with  thiev- 
ing editors. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  down  here  to  live? " 
one  man  with  ruffled,  poetic  hair  was  asking 
another. 

"  We'd  like  to.  We've  a  place  on  the  Drive. 
We  can't  afford  to  live  in  the  Village." 

Then  she  lost  that  in  the  soft  murmur  of  a 
conversation  behind  her: 

"  She  used  to  be  married  to  him,  didn't  she? 
I  should  think  she'd  be  embarrassed  at  meeting 
him." 

"  Oh,  no.  One  really  is  not  expected  to  re- 
member farther  back  than  the  second  last." 

Paula  had  overheard  also.  The  two  looked 
at  each  other. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Paula  composedly. 

"  You  see,"  she  went  on,  "  there's  no  point 
in  not  being  frank  down  here.  Most  of  us 
women  write  or  something.  We  don't  need  to 
attract  men.  But  the  ordinary  girl  in  middle 
class  surroundings  must.  Therefore  her 
speech  must  be  reserved,  whether  she  feels  that 
way  or  not.  Men  are  so  attracted  by  a  woman's 
innocence." 


102 


FOB  A  TIME 


She  was  silent  a  moment.  "  Still,"  she  rumi- 
nated, "  think  of  the  leagues  and  leagues  of  in- 
nocence of  the  old  maids  of  the  world.  And 
none  of  them  seem  to  be  charmed  with  that. — 
Strange,  isn't  it? " 

Bettina  admitted  that  it  was  strange. 

"  Odd  about  men,  anyway.  They  don't  real- 
ize that  they're  not  the  only  ones  who  are  aware 
of  facts.  They  seem  never  to  remember  that 
it  was  Eve  who  nibbled  at  the  apple  first.  In 
fact,  they  take  the  ground  that  no  real  lady 
knows  what  grows  on  apple  trees."  She  sipped 
her  coffee  musingly.  "And  we  never  unde- 
ceive them,  the  dears." 

Bettina  had  forgotten  to  listen  to  the  more 
general  conversations  at  the  table. 

Paula  went  on,  after  dexterously  appropri- 
ating an  extra  cup  of  coffee  from  the  area  of 
someone  who  was  far  too  interested  in  gesticu- 
lating his  views  on  the  drama. 

"  They  like,"  she  said,  "  as  a  great  treat  to 
show  us  bits. ' 

"  I  know  a  girl,"  she  remembered,  "  awfully 

clever  girl.     She  had  done  settlement  work 

and  gone  into  the  most  awful  places  eight  hours 

103 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


a  day  every  day,  and  she  loved  to  forget  all 
about  it  Saturday  night.  There  was  a  most 
formal  and  proper  man,  paying  her  attention. 
He  asked  her  to  go  out  with  him  one  Saturday, 
and,  as  a  great  favor,  and  as  part  of  showing 
her  New  York,  he  took  her  slumming." 

She  lighted  another  cigarette  appropriated 
from  a  silver  case  on  the  nearest  table. 
The  dears,"  she  said. 


<( 


104 


CHAPTER  XI 

AND  FINDS  IT  NOT  SO  FILLING  AS  IT  MIGHT  BE 

"  Go  on,"  said  Bettina. 

Paula  appeared  mildly  amused. 

"  I  do,  don't  I?  "  she  confessed,  in  her  caress- 
ing contralto,  which  rather  "  got "  Bettina. 
"  I  oughtn't,  really.  No  writer  should  talk. 
It's  downright  waste." 

Betty  was  somewhat  shocked  at  this  selfish- 
ness, which  she  had  uncovered  in  Temp  as  well. 
Dear  Temp,  so  naively  unconscious  of  being 
anything  but  noble!  Bettina  caught  herself 
already  thinking  in  Paula's  jargon.  She  was 
too  darned  adaptable,  that  was  what  was  the 
matter  with  her,  she  told  herself. 

Paula  had  already  forgotten  what  they  had 
been  chatting  about.  She  looked  about  the 
room,  with  dreamy  satiric  eyes. 

"  Queer  thing,  Life,"  she  said.     "  We  say 

it's  a  merry-go-round.     And  the  uplift  crowd 

105 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


think  it's  a  sort  of  escalator;  you  just  stand  on 
a  step  and  do  nothing,  and  up  you  go,  up,  up, 
up !     Have  a  cigarette?  " 

Betty  blushed.     "  I  never  learned." 

"  How  clever  of  you.  You  know,  it's  not 
such  a  bad  card  to  play,  even  here.  White 
dress  and  blue  sash.     All  that  sort  of  thing." 

Bettina  protested,  and  blushed  even  harder. 

"  Not  bad,"  commented  Paula  again,  with 
an  appraising  glance  at  the  blush.  "  You'll 
find  it  very  useful.  A  weapon  in  need.  As 
for  myself,  I've  nothing  but  my  arresting 
frankness.  Oh  yes,  if  you  carry  a  defect  far 
enough,  it  becomes  a  charm." 

"  What  are  you  two  so  interested  in? "  asked 
Temp,  bending  over  to  catch  a  word. 

"  Men.  What  else? "  said  Paula,  and  calmly 
shoved  him  back  into  the  whirlpool  of  the 
noisier  discussion. 

Comfortably  on  the  shore  of  it,  she  smiled  at 
Betty,  her  smile  merging  itself  into  a  greeting 
to  a  newly  arrived,  severely  tailored  woman, 
with  a  capable  face. 

"  Who  is  she? "  asked  Betty. 

"  Can't  think  of  her  name.     She's  very  ener- 

106 


NOT  SO  FILLING 


getic,"  answered  Paula,  stirring  her  coffee. 
"  She  used  to  want  a  vote;  wants  something 
else  now,  I  believe." 

Betty  looked  interestedly  about  her. 

"Everyone's  like  someone,  aren't  they?" 
she  commented  ungrammatically. 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  asked  Paula  idly, 
her  eyes  ticketing  the  assembly. 

But  Bettina  was  only  reflecting  to  herself 
that  Paula  was  Nadine  all  over,  and  that  the 
girl  named  Petra  was  exactly  like  Ruth,  shy  to 
look  at,  but  a  grim  pursuer,  nevertheless. 

Now  Paula  wasn't,  or  Nadine.  They  didn't 
have  to  be.  They  were  so  distinctly  not  in 
need  of  men  that  they  were  certain  never  to  be 
without. 

Nessa,  Betty  gathered,  was  married,  but  it 
seemed  to  make  no  appreciable  difference  to 
her  admirers,  and  certainly  not  to  Nessa. 

"  I'm  thinking  a  little  about  being  married," 
Petra  was  saying  to  Nessa.  "  I  should  so  like 
to  be  eternally  adored." 

Paula  turned.  "  I  thought  you  were  think- 
ing of  getting  married?  "  she  remarked  in  her 

blase  voice,  too  tired  for  irony. 

107 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Oh,  of  course,  not  properly  married," 
Petra  hastened  to  assure  her. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  properly  married? 
A  ceremony? " 

"  Oh,  no!    Washing  dishes." 

"  But  I  can't  find  anyone  interesting 
enough,"  she  went  on  after  a  moment. 

"  One  doesn't,"  answered  Nessa.  "  One 
simply  takes  the  most  interesting  available.  I 
did.  Mother  was  shocked  when  I  told  her  so. 
She  says  one  doesn't  choose  one's  most  interest- 
ing suitor.  She  says  it's  not  decent.  But  I'll 
wager  she  did  it.  I've  noticed  that  parents 
describe  as  not  decent  all  the  things  they  did 
and  don't  want  us  to  find  out." 

Bettina  heard  a  good  deal  about  Paula's 
marriage  then,  and  her  husband.  It  seemed 
that  they  fell  in  love  at  sight  and  were  almost 
as  immediately  married. 

And  so  they  came  to  the  Village,  where  no- 
body lives  happily  ever  after ;  where,  in  fact,  it 
would  be  looked  upon  as  the  worst  sort  of  faux 
pas,  not  to  speak  of  scandal,  for  anybody  to 
live  happily  six  months  or  a  year  after,  let  alone 

forever. 

108 


NOT  SO  FILLING 


Happiness  is  stagnation,  the  Villagers  be- 
lieve, to  say  nothing  of  being  an  impossibility 
anyway. 

After  Paula's  confidences  and  comments 
came  Nessa's. 

Poor  Bettina,  gravely  trying  to  find  her  way 
about  in  the  marshes  and  morasses  of  marriage, 
and  eternally  stepping  on  squashy  corpses  of 
those  who  had  floundered  on  before  her! 

Betty's  attention  was  deflected  for  a  moment 
by  something  Temp  was  saying,  but,  as  their 
discussion  was  of  art  or  politics  or  something 
vague  and  beautiful,  she  soon  came  back  to  the 
girls'  more  practical  one. 

"  Country  boys  and  girls  marry  young," 
Petra  asserted. 

"  Yes,"  Nessa's  tone  was  indulgent,  "  but 
then  in  town  we  have  the  theatre  and  such 
things." 

"  I  imagine,"  added  Paula,  "  that  now  since 
motion  pictures  are  penetrating  everywhere, 
there  will  be  a  change  in  the  statistics  in  the 
country.  One  can  get  almost  as  many  thrills 
from  the  movies  as  from  being  married." 

"Paula,  how  can  you  say  such  things?" 


109 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Petra's  outraged  expression  was  for  all  the 
world  like  Ruth's,  Betty  thought. 

"  Why  not?  Which  are  you  defending? 
Marriage  or  the  movies? " 

"Are  you  bored,  Hon? "  asked  Temp,  ten- 
derly. His  blue  eyes  still  looked  innumerable 
postscripts  to  his  most  casual  sentence. 

At  their  glance  Betty  always  lost  her  head. 
It  was  so  unlike  the  way  persons  looked  at  one 
another  above  Fourteenth  Street.  There  was 
no  romance  from  Fifteenth  up.  She  wondered 
how  people  at,  say,  Forty-seventh,  sustained 
life. 

"  I'm  having  a  lovely  time,"  she  told 
him. 

"  I  could  never  get  tired  of  tea-rooms!  "  she 
added  fervently  and  honestly. 

"  I  missed  the  Village  when  I  was  on  my  trip 
last  summer,"  contributed  Petra,  sighing  in 
synipathy.  "  There  isn't  anything  like  this 
out  West." 

"  No,"  asserted  Nessa.     "  But  then,  people 

are  so  much  more  wholesome  in  the  West,  don't 

you  think?    And  then,  of  course,  there  are 

enough  men  to  go  round  out  there." 

110 


NOT  SO  FILLING 


"  But  they  really  are,"  Petra  asserted,  ear- 
nestly supporting  the  wholesome  theory. 

"  It  must  have  something  to  do  with  the 
longitude — or  is  it  latitude?  It's  so  long  since 
I  had  botany.     Or  is  it  geology?  " 

Bettina  gave  a  fleeting  thought  to  the  van- 
ished young  man  who  had  sympathized  with 
her  mythology. 

How  good  it  was  to  have  time  to  be  inane, 
she  reflected,  and  smiled  contentedly. 

Temp  answered  her  smile. 

"Glad?  "he  queried. 

"Awfully!"  said  Bettina. 

Temp  melted  with  tenderness.  "  I  adore 
you! "  he  whispered  ardently,  then  added,  "A 
dollar  sixty."  For  everybody  was  paying  up, 
and  Betty  had  made  a  dash  for  the  menu  to 
figure  out  theirs. 

She  picked  up  her  velvet  bag  and  found  the 
coin  purse. 

Something  about  paying  for  Temp's  food 

was  beginning  to  get  on  her  nerves.     But  she 

reproached  herself  for  her  unworthy  feeling. 

"  What  is  money,  anyway? "  she  asked  herself 

scornfully  ;  "it's  not  worth  thinking  of,"  she 

111 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


answered.  "  Nothing  matters  but  love,  noth- 
ing! "  she  said  to  herself.  And  with  a  tender 
smile  at  Temp,  she  paid  the  bill. 


112 


CHAPTER  XII 

BETTINA  DISCOVERS  THE  REVOLUTION 

Though  it  was  undoubtedly  convenient  for 
picnicking  to  old-timers  like  Temp  and  his 
friends,  Bettina  found  Parnassus  a  very  slip- 
pery place  for  one  not  used  to  it.  The  heights 
made  her  dizzy. 

But  it  was  all  for  the  Revolution.  She  had 
progressed  as  far  as  the  Revolution  now.  Not 
that  she  understood  exactly  what  it  was  for, 
but  she  knew  that  it  must  be  all  right,  or  Temp 
would  not  have  approved  it. 

As  nearly  as  she  could  make  out,  every  time 
a  poet  got  a  rejection  slip  he  became  more  cer- 
tain that  the  existing  order  of  things  must  be 
destroyed.  If  he  sold  enough  he  became  a 
bourgeois,  and  deserted  the  cause.  There 
were  many  such  traitors.  Their  friends  re- 
membered sadly  their  splendid  youth,  when 
they  had  been  full  of  enthusiasm  for  the  cause 
of  humanity,  before  they  had  sold  their  souls. 

ii3 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


The  best  prices  for  souls,  it  seemed,  were 
paid  by  William  Randolph  Hearst,  but  The 
Ladies'  Home  Journal  and  Century  got  some. 

Temp  seemed  in  no  danger  of  selling  his 
soul,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  editors  had  so 
much  material  on  hand.  Bettina  breathed 
deep  sighs  of  relief.  She  would  hate  to  have 
had  the  people  that  are  in  tea-rooms  calling 
Temp  a  traitor;  or  confiding  to  each  other  un- 
der their  breaths  that  he  had  no  civic  conscious- 
ness. 

Bettina  had  put  on  class  hatred  as  she  put 
on  smocks,  not  that  either  was  especially  be- 
coming to  her,  but  they  served  to  give  pleasure 
to  Temp,  and  make  her  look  like  the  people 
about  her. 

Of  the  two,  she  preferred  the  smocks. 

And  it  was  not  long  before  she  began  rather 
to  enjoy  both.  They  made  her  feel  so  im- 
mensely superior  to  William  Clark  and  the 
people  with  whom  she  had  once  spent  her 
days. 

If  there  were  little  things  about  this  paradise 

that  vaguely  disturbed  her,  she  loyally  put 

them  from  her  mind,  as  unworthy  thoughts. 

114 


THE  REVOLUTION 


Still,  as  the  days  went  by,  she  found  that  she 
was  growing  increasingly  addicted  to  un- 
worthy thoughts.  At  which  discovery,  of 
course,  she  redoubled  her  vigilance. 

Bettina  was  trying  her  best  to  be  a  radical 
and  have  a  message.  She  could  not  yet  be  said 
to  have  succeeded,  but  she  believed  that  with 
diligence,  she  would  in  time. 

If  her  money  held  out,  that  is.  She  had  no- 
ticed with  alarm  that  the  price  of  hers  and 
Temp's  meals,  not  to  mention  the  violets  he 
bought  her,  and  their  other  necessary  expenses, 
were  eating  like  acid  into  her  small  savings. 
At  this  rate,  they  would  soon  have  nothing  left 
— and  then?  Disaster.  Providing  Temp  had 
not  managed  to  sell  his  soul  in  the  meantime  to 
any  appreciable  extent.  She  had  little  fear  of 
his  doing  so.  She  had  learned  now  about 
magazines.  They  never  bought  real  poetry, 
anything  original  or  big.  It  was  safer  to  print 
the  rubber-stamp  type  of  pretty  verse,  written 
by  its  regular  standbys,  as  a  rule.  Real  poets 
were  not  published  in  these  days. 

She  had  wondered  a  little  why  Temp  and  his 

friends  continued  writing  poetry  under  such 

115 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


conditions,  until  she  had  asked  outright.  It 
was  the  inner  consciousness. 

At  the  same  time,  she  could  not  help  being  a 
bit  anxious  about  the  expenses.  She  dared  not 
mention  it  to  Temp.  It  would  have  broken  his 
writing  mood  for  the  day. 

And  besides,  their  love  was  such  a  perfect 
thing,  an  idyl  of  beauty.  How  could  financial 
affairs  have  any  kinship  with  a  thing  of  the 
spirit?  So  she  did  all  the  worrying  herself. 
She  had  a  premonition  that  Temp  was  not  very 
good  at  worrying  anyway. 

He  lived  on  the  heights.  He  was  a  closer 
follower  of  Beauty,  a  more  exalted  lover  of  Art 
than  she  had  ever  known  existed.  It  was  her 
part  to  shelter  him  from  ugliness. 

Besides,  she  loved  to.  He  was  so  adorable. 
He  so  seriously  believed  her  perfect.  William 
Clark  had  seen  her  faults  with  an  indulgent 
eye,  but  Temp  did  not  see  them  at  all.  He 
linked  her  with  the  beautiful  things  of  all  ages. 

It  was  wonderful  to  be  wooed  by  a  poet. 
He  was  unpractical,  and  rather  lazy,  and  un- 
doubtedly conceited,  but  he  could,  not  only 

once,  but  steadily,  day  by  day,  transport  her 

il6* 


THE  REVOLUTION 


past  all  the  boundaries  of  every-day,  and  give 
her  license  to  live  in  a  land  of  romance.  And, 
after  all,  wasn't  that  the  miracle  that  she  had 
all  her  life  before  watched  for  in  vain? 

So  Betty  was  happy. 

And  Temp  was  happy  too.  To  tell  the 
truth,  it  was  not  Betty's  money,  but  Betty's 
charm  and  general  dearness  that  made  him  so 
deeply  contented.  He  really  did  not  think  of 
the  money. 

That  was  the  trouble. 

It  is  not  the  men  who  deliberately  scheme  to 
get  control  of  their  wives'  money,  but  those  who 
would  scorn  to  touch  it,  if  they  thought  of  it, 
but  are  so  lofty-minded  that  they  never  think 
of  it  at  all,  but  believe  vaguely  that  money 
drops  from  the  sky,  that  make  women  un- 
happy. 

Temp  was  a  lineal  descendent  of  Rip  Van 
Winkle,  beloved  of  children  and  dogs,  the  soul 
of  good  nature,  but  an  exasperation  to  his  wife, 
except  that  Betty,  dear  soul,  was  too  admiring 
and  too  much  in  love  to  be  exasperated. 

As  yet. 


117 


CHAPTER  XIII 

BETTINA  PAYS  THE  BILLS 

Bettina  was  growing  a  little  tired  of  the 
Revolution.  Of  course  she  would  not  have 
admitted  it.  But  it  was  disconcerting  to  be 
dancing  happily  at  the  Radical  Club  with  a 
beautiful,  boyish-looking  poet  who  had  evi- 
dently been  told  he  resembled  Rupert  Brooke, 
and  to  find,  after  admiring  his  dreamy  profile, 
that  he  hoped  in  a  few  months  to  be  going 
about  with  a  rifle,  killing  bourgeoisie.  Par- 
ticularly if  one  were  not  quite  certain  yet 
whether  one  were  open  to  attack  or  were  re- 
garded as  belonging  to  the  attacking  party. 

Bettina's  girl  friends,  in  her  new  environ- 
ment, were  extremely  intense.  Russian  girls, 
very  dumpy  and  brave,  who  lived  for  art  and 
the  revolution.  They  had  to,  really,  usually 
having  no  looks  to  spare.     Bettina,  some  way, 

did  not  share  the  prevailing  admiration  for 

118 


PAYS  THE  BILLS 


them,  although  she  made  a  valiant  effort. 
Then  there  were  the  pseudo-Russian  type,  who 
had  gone  in  for  socialism,  she  was  sure,  because 
it  afforded  such  an  excellent  opportunity  for 
meeting  young  men.  Girls  who  would  have 
been  wall-flowers  in  any  other  environment 
could  shout  their  way  into  acquaintance  with 
any  number  of  members  of  a  local. 

Even  beneath  the  play  spirit,  Betty  found, 
lurked,  like  the  extremely  slippery  brand  of  ice 
beneath  the  soil  of  a  glacier,  that  basic  revolu- 
tion. She  felt  as  if  she  had  gone  to  live  in  a 
community  of  Adventists,  who  were  momen- 
tarily expecting  the  second  coming. 

Being  of  a  polite  disposition,  she  expected  it 
too,  but,  at  the  same  time,  if  it  had  suddenly 
happened,  she  would  have  been  considerably 
startled. 

There  were  a  good  many  things  she  would 
have  liked  to  know  about  it.  Temp,  when  ap- 
proached, was  rather  vague.  The  revolution 
was  clearly  a  necessity  to  any  decent  person, 
like  washing  behind  the  ears. 

All  party  matters  were  a  trifle  vague.  Of 
course  Bettina  understood  very  clearly  about 

119 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


the  Right  and  Left  wings,  though  she  usually 
had  to  stop  and  think  before  she  could  remem- 
ber which  was  which. 

But,  though  she  was  not  always  as  enthusi- 
astic as  she  might  have  been  about  the  revolu- 
tion, she  liked  the  revolutionists  tremendously. 
She  wondered  why  it  was  that  the  people  on 
the  wrong  side  were  always  so  much  more  in- 
teresting than  the  good  ones. 

William  Clark  seemed  to  her  now  a  deadly 
dull  person.  It  would  never  have  occurred  to 
him  to  blow  up  anybody. 

But  these  people  were  so  childlike,  so  clearly 
and  simply  living  in  that  renaissance  of  won- 
der, which  Theodore  Watts-Dunton,  or  some- 
one, once  started. 

She  was  thinking  of  this  as  she  looked  about, 
at  the  Villagers,  in  a  highly  colored  dancing 
den.  She  and  Temp  sat  in  a  black  recess  at  a 
green  table.  Temp,  with  a  blank,  rapt  look, 
was  making  a  poem.  Betty  was  not  particu- 
larly excited  about  it.  She  had  found  that 
Temp's  poems  turned  out  to  be  pretty  much  all 
alike.     Which  made  it  so  simple  a  matter  to 

praise  them.     One  had  only  to  say  the  same 

120 


PAYS  THE  BILLS 


thing  over  again.  She  had  overheard  one  of 
Temp's  poet  friends  say  the  formula  once,  so 
she  knew  it  was  correct. 

And  Betty  so  wanted  to  be  correct.  She 
had  learned  the  truth  that  there  is  no  time  when 
it  is  so  important  to  use  the  correct  fork  as 
when  banqueting  on  nectar  and  ambrosia  with 
the  immortals. 

Temp  came  momentarily  out  of  his  trance. 
She  was  looking  unusually  pretty. 

"A  penny  for  your  thoughts,"  he  bantered. 

She  looked  at  him  caressingly.  "  Dear 
Temp,  I'd  have  to  supply  the  penny." 

But  he  did  not  hear.  He  had  gone  back  into 
the  trance. 

Betty  was  shocked  at  herself.  How  could 
she  have  been  so  crude?  She  was  remorseful. 
Of  course  she  shouldn't  have  blurted  out  a 
thing  like  that.  It  wasn't  done.  She  knew 
very  well  that  one  told  the  truth  fearlessly 
about  the  other  classes,  but  never  about  one's 
own.  And  she  hadn't  really  meant  what  she 
said.     What  was  money,  anyway? 

"  Dance? "  asked  someone,  leaning  grace- 
fully over  the  black  partition. 

121 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"Oh!"  said  Bettina,  and  sprang  up,  eyes 
alight.  Temp,  his  attention  centered  on  the 
Muse,  did  not  see  her  go.  But  every  girl  south 
of  Fourteenth  Street  has  to  submit  to  being 
,  second  to  her  rival,  the  Muse,  in  her  cavalier's 
eyes,  and  it  is  just  as  well  to  be  philosophical 
about  it. 

"  How  do  you  like  the  Village  by  this  time?,: 
asked  her  partner,  swinging  her  dexterously 
past  a  fat  shimmer. 

"Oh,  I  love  it!" 

"  Like  the  people  here,  do  you?  " 

"  Oh,  aren't  they  wonderful !  " 

He  apologized  to  an  irate  lady  who  was  see- 
ing America  first,  and  smiled  pleasantly  at  his 
flattering  partner. 

"  Why  isn't  everybody  like  the  people  here?" 
asked  Betty  enthusiastically. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  the  bunch." 

"  They're  all  so  good  to  me.  I  can't  think 
why." 

Perhaps  she  might  have  thought  why  a  few 
seconds  later,  but  Betty  was  not  good  at  put- 
ting two  and  two  together.     Besides  being  far 

too  polite. 

122 


PAYS  THE  BILLS 


When  the  music  stopped,  he  caught  at  her 
arm.  "Don't  go  back  yet!  You're — ah — 
such  a  good  dancer." 

"  Oh,"  said  Betty,  overcome.  She  knew 
that  she  was  the  sort  of  dancer  who,  though 
she'd  never  been  told  she  was  bad,  would  have 
been  told  so  if  she'd  had  brothers. 

"  I  want  awfully  to  have  this  next  with  you. 
I'll  be  awfully  disappointed " 


She  looked  at  Temp.  The  Muse  was  still  at 
home  to  him,  she  saw. 

"Do!" 

"  Well." 

The  music  crashed  into  the  mere  buzz  of  talk 
and  demolished  it  utterly. 

"  Yes,  I'd  rather  dance  with  you  than  any- 
one here,"  he  said. 

"Really?"  She  looked  about.  All  the 
other  girls  were  real  Villagers,  hair,  soul,  and 
smock.  Except,  of  course,  the  shimmers  who, 
in  their  attempt  to  get  acquainted  with  the  Vil- 
lage, of  course  danced  with  other  shimmers. 

"Ah — I  wondered  if  you  could  lend  me  a  ten 
this  week? "  inquired  her  partner  uninterest- 
edly. 

123 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  Thought  you  wouldn't  mind."     He  swept 
her  gracefully  into  a  lovely  swing  and  pressed 
her  hand  accidentally. 
Why — why 


u  TTtri l » 


"  Awfully  good  of  you,"  he  said  gratefully. 
"  I'll  come  over  for  it  in  a  minute." 

After  he  took  her  back  to  Temp,  she  rather 
bewilderedly  got  her  purse  and  found  a  bill. 
Whether  it  was  she  or  her  late  partner  found 
the  opportunity  to  so  adroitly  change  its  own- 
ership she  was  not  certain.  But  there  was  noth- 
ing embarrassing  about  the  ceremony.  She  had 
always  vaguely  thought  it  would  be  embar- 
rassing for  a  man  to  borrow  money  from  a 
woman.  She  had  lent  a  good  deal,  off  and  on, 
to  the  dumpy  girls  in  smocks,  but  that  was  dif- 
ferent. Or  was  it?  She  felt  uncertain.  She 
might  ask  Temp.  But  she  rather  hesitated  to 
ask  Temp  about  this.  One  didn't  mention 
money  to  poets.  And  one  saw  that  it  was  al- 
ways there  so  that  they  did  not  need  to  mention 
it  either. 

He  had  read  his  poem  and  had  her  praise, 
and  they  had  danced  a  waltz  together. 

124 


PAYS  THE  BILLS 


Then  she  had  danced  with  a  pleasant 
youth  or  two  and  heard  things  about  the 
one-act  play,  and  the  decay  of  the  sonnet- 
form. 

"  Have  a  cup  of  coffee  with  me,  Miss 
Betty? "  asked  a  melancholy  novelist,  who,  she 
gathered,  had  not  written  one  yet. 

She  was  startled.  But  if  there  were,  in  her 
present  acquaintance,  one  man  willing  to  pay 
for  what  she  ate  or  drank,  she  would  not  dis- 
courage him. 

"  I'd  love  to,"  she  glowed,  and  they  sought 
another  recess  with  its  green  table. 

"  How's  the  world  treating  you?  "  he  asked, 
kindly,  after  they  were  served. 

She  smiled  happily. 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  he  answered.  "  I've  been 
having  a  rotten  time." 

"  I'm  so  sorry." 

"  Oh,  it's  only  temporary.    Only  temporary. 

That's  why  I  thought  you'd  not  mind  seeing 

me  through,  perhaps." 

Seeing  you  through?  " 

You're  the  only  one  of  us  in  a  position  to 

be  a  patron  of  the  arts,"  he  laughed. 

125 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  One  of  us! "  she  glowed  at  the  compliment 
in  this. 

"  Oh — why "    Her  charming  sympathy 

had  taken  the  form  of  twenty-five  dollars  by 
the  time  their  tete-a-tete  was  over. 

She  was  somewhat  bewildered,  but  fright- 
fully pleased  at  the  tribute  of  his  trust  in  her. 
Temp's  friends  had  so  hospitably  accepted  her 
and  made  her  one  of  themselves. 

She  and  Temp  danced  the  next  few  dances, 
and  then  decided  to  go  across  the  street  to  have 
a  cup  of  tea  and  see  who  was  there.  He  held 
her  coat  for  her  in  his  own  graceful,  grateful 
way,  and  she  smiled  at  him  as  she  always 
did.  He  was  closing  the  door  behind  them 
as  they  were  accosted  by  a  couple  coming 
in. 

"  Hello,  Temp !    'Lo,  Betty !  " 

They  shook  hands  all  round.  Then  as  Temp 
and  the  girl  seemed  to  be  talking  animatedly, 
the  man  drew  her  aside. 

"  Betty,  you're  a  good  sport.     I've  brought 

Nina  here,  and  I've  not  a  cent  in  my  pockets. 

You  know  her;  she's  not  a  good  fellow  like  you 

and  most  of  the  girls.     I  wouldn't  have  her 

126 


PAYS  THE  BILLS 


guess  for  anything.     Slip  me  a  dollar,  won't 
you?     Sh — Don't  let  them  see." 

Bettina  had  no  time  to  think. 

"  You're  the  real  thing,  Betty.  Do  the  same 
for  you,  some  day.     Ta-ta!  " 

Bettina  reflected  soberly  that  at  this  rate  he 
would  have  to,  but  she  stifled  that  selfish 
thought.  What  was  a  dollar?  And  what  fun 
it  was  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  these  mag- 
nificent people !  Their  gratitude  was  pleasant. 
It  was  becoming  a  necessity  to  her.  But  what 
should  she  do  when  her  money  was  gone? 

"  Let's  dance  and  dance  and  dance,"  she 
cried  feverishly,  as  they  entered  and  met  the 
strains  of  a  new  phonograph  and  the  smocks  of 
a  new  crowd.     "  I  don't  want  to  think!  " 

And  they  did,  breathlessly,  until  a  half  dozen 
revelers  attached  them  to  their  train  and  took 
them  over  to  get  ham  sandwiches  at  a  villain- 
ously untidy  restaurant  on  Sixth  Avenue. 

As  they  walked  up  Sixth,  Temp  pointed  to 
the  window  of  a  haberdashery. 

"  I've  had  my  eye  on  that  silk  shirt  all  week, 
said  he.     "  Just  my  color,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is." 

127 


» 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Well,  how  about  it? "  said  he  gaily. 
"  How's  the  exchequer?  Shall  we  come  by  to- 
morrow? " 

They  had  dropped  behind.  The  others  were 
not  noticing. 

"  Yes.  Oh,  yes.  Only  let's  not  talk  about 
it,"  answered  Bettina  desperately.  "  Let's 
forget  about  money." 

"  Let's,"  assented  Temp,  and  stopping  a 
moment  before  they  went  on  with  the  others, 
caught  her  bare  hands  in  his,  and  bent  his 
lovely  head  and  kissed  them  with  respectful 
adoration. 

And  Bettina  forgot  about  money. 


128 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  OVERHEAD  ON  PARNASSUS 

"  How  very  exciting  to  marry  a  radical! " 
Bettina  had  once  breathed  fervently.  She  still 
found  radicals  gloriously  exciting.  She  adored 
them,  as  she  adored  orchids.  But  that  wasn't 
their  only  resemblance  to  orchids,  she  found. 
They,  too,  were  expensive;  really,  she  was  be- 
ginning to  fear,  beyond  the  purse  of  a  not  too 
provident  erstwhile  school  teacher. 

It  was  quite  all  right  to  be  cautious  about 
orchids.  But  to  think  of  one's  friends  in  terms 
of  money  was  a  mercenary,  selfish  thing.  Bet- 
tina blushed  when  she  found  herself  doing  it, 
and  always  stopped. 

Which  was  the  reason,  perhaps,  for  the  fact 

that,  as  the  end  of  the  month  drew  near,  so  too 

approached  the  end  of  her  savings  account. 

But  the  race  was  unequal,  or  Bettina  was  really 

not  so  careful  as  she  might  have  been,  for, 

129 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


finally,  quite  a  week  before  the  month  of  pro- 
bation was  up,  she  found  she  had  spent  every 
cent  she  owned  in  the  world. 

Except  three.  These  she  slipped  into  a  Sal- 
vation Army  box,  from  some  obscure  motive  of 
turning  to  good  works  at  the  last. 

When  he  found  their  source  of  income 
stopped,  Temp  did  not  blame  her.  Still,  it 
was  unfortunate,  as  he  was  in  the  midst  of  read- 
ing up  on  the  Elizabethan  dramatists  and  im- 
bibing into  his  spirit  something  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  their  times.  And  while  imbibing 
atmosphere  one  really  should  not  be  jarred. 

Bettina,  who  was  to  have  been  his  inspira- 
tion, had  proved  the  means  of  bringing  him 
unpleasantly  to  earth.  She  felt  her  failure 
keenly. 

She  did  her  best.  She  went  to  such  of  her 
debtors  as  were  not  sufficiently  psychologists  to 
read  her  need  in  her  eye,  and  escape ;  and  asked 
them  if  they  could  lend  her  a  dollar  or  two. 
They  were  ever  so  pleasant  about  it. 

Like  editors,  they  softened  their  regrets  in 

the  most  thoughtful  way. 

Temp  and  Betty  were  able  to  obtain  a  few 

130 


THE  OVERHEAD 


meals  on  credit,  by  going  to  a  different  place 
each  time. 

Temp  said  he  understood  now  for  the  first 
time  why  there  were  so  many  eating  places  in 
the  Village.     But  obviously  this  could  not  last. 

Also  they  discovered,  about  the  second  day 
of  their  strategy,  that  the  proprietors  must 
know  each  other,  and,  odious  thought,  be  low 
enough  to  gossip  about  their  friends. 

The  third  day  they  had  no  breakfast  at  all. 
One's  brain  was  really  clearer  for  it,  Temp 
said. 

Betty,  for  her  part,  found  hers  quite  hide- 
ously clear. 

And  anyway,  they  had  a  perfectly  good  invi- 
tation to  luncheon.  It  was  from  two  brightly 
interested  elderly  ladies  whom  they  had  once 
detested.  But  it  is  remarkable  what  good 
qualities  are  sometimes  hidden  beneath  un- 
promising exteriors.     So  they  had  accepted. 

But  during  the  forenoon,  as  Temp  was  get- 
ting on  famously  in  his  grafting  of  atmosphere, 
a  knock  introduced  a  kindly  neighbor. 

"  'Phone  message  for  you." 

It  was  from  their  elderly  hostesses. 

131 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  She  said,  would  you  mind  coming  next 
Thursday  instead.  She  said  she'd  be  so  glad 
to  know  it  didn't  make  any  difference  to  you." 

"  I'd  be  glad  to  know  it  didn't  make  any  dif- 
ference to  us,  too,"  said  Temp,  bitterly,  after 
the  neighbor  had  gone. 

But  what  should  they  do?  Betty  stared  at 
him  speechless. 

He  stared  back.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  whis- 
pered hoarsely,  "  I  hadn't  noticed  it  before,  but 
I'm  hungry." 

She  received  his  remark  in  silence.  She 
hadn't  noticed  it  before,  either,  but  now, 
strangely,  so  was  she.  Then  she  rose  and 
laughed. 

"  We're  imagining  it,"  she  said.     "  Go  on 
reading,  Temp.     You'll  probably  not  feel  it 
then.     Would  you  like  to  read  me  a  poem? ' 
It  was  her  greatest  sacrifice.     But  this  time  it 
did  not  help. 

Temp  took  a  melancholy  survey  of  the  past 
few  months.  He  knew  that  he  had  borrowed 
all  that  he  ever  would  be  able  to  of  his  ac- 
quaintances.   Bettina  had  been  his  last  chance. 

Although  he  did  not  think  of  her  that  way. 

132 


THE  OVERHEAD 


He  thought  of  her  as  a  charming  and  perfect 
creature. 

He  so  much  preferred  to  think  of  beauty 
than  of  sordid  things. 

He  turned  to  Betty,  half  unconsciously  hop- 
ing that  she  might  lead  his  mind  gently  away. 

But  Bettina  seemed  to  be  busy. 

There  was  no  escape  from  harassing 
thoughts.  For  perhaps  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  Temp  was  alone  with  reality. 

And  in  such  a  tete-a-tete,  his  powers  of  rep- 
artee were  decidedly  feeble. 


133 


CHAPTER  XV 

TEMP  BUYS  A  TON  OF  COAL 

There  is  a  great  gulf  fixed  between  those 
who  work  and  those  who  talk  for  a  living. 

It  is  fixed  by  the  scorn  of  those  who  talk. 

They  are  so  much  cleverer.  Dimly  Bettina 
had  divined  that,  from  above  Fourteenth. 
Now  she  reveled  in  it.  It  was  so  wonderful 
to  be  allowed  to  listen. 

And  she  was  allowed  to  listen.  Always. 
No  one  ever  heard  her  through  a  sentence.  But 
why  should  they?  She  was  not  clever.  It 
was  Temp  who  was  that.  But  he  had  not  been 
clever  enough  to  think  out  a  way  to  escape  the 
boredom  of  not  eating.  He  had  been  left 
alone  with  despair. 

But  in  the  Village  one  does  not  stay  long 

alone   in   despair.      One's   friends   drop   into 

one's  studio  at  all  hours  to  talk  about  editors. 

Singly,  or  twos,  or  threes,  or  often,  hordes. 

Hordes  are  better,  for  then  one  does  not  have 

134 


A  TON  OF  COAL 


to  join  in  the  conversation  at  all.  Like  mothers 
who  have  five  or  six  children,  one  finds  that 
they  amuse  each  other,  and  leave  one  free  to 
work  in  peace. 

Artists  are  undisturbed  by  the  friendly  prac- 
tice, for  they  can  go  on  painting  precisely  as 
well.  As  for  poets,  they  are  better  off  still, 
for,  when  bothered  for  an  extra  line,  a  rhyme 
or  a  metaphor,  they  have  only  to  ask  the  com- 
pany. 

And,  as  on  that  day,  so  on  succeeding  ones, 
their  friends  had  dropped  in,  drifting  pleas- 
antly away  again  about  meal-time,  and  leaving 
the  querulous  Temp  to  the  now  somewhat 
thoughtful  Bettina. 

And  so  the  days  went  slowly  by.  Their  de- 
vices were  devious.  Sometimes  they  were  able 
to  borrow  the  price  of  a  meal,  and  sometimes 
not.  They  had  always  run  bills.  Betty  had 
been  able  to  pay  them  before.  This  time  she 
could  not.  And  to  make  matters  worse,  these 
bills  began  now  to  come  in. 

About  the  fourth  day  of  the  lean  years,  there 
was  a  ring  at  the  door.  It  presaged  an  ex- 
pressman who  grimly  proposed  to  deliver  a  ton 

135 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


of  coal.  Temp  had  bought  it  when  they  were 
prosperous,  in  a  spasmodic  effort  to  be  provi- 
dent and  far-seeing,  as  the  price  of  coal  was 
about  to  advance.  Bettina  had  paid  for  it,  and 
both  had  promptly  forgotten  about  it. 

But  now  the  truly  alarming  question,  consid- 
ering the  size  of  the  apartment,  arose.  Where 
should  they  store  it? 

"  Put  it  in  the  bath  tub,"  suggested  Nessa  in 
her  practical  way.  She  had  just  dropped  in, 
along  with  two  or  three  others  who  seemed,  as 
usual,  to  have  nothing  particular  to  do,  and 
who  loved  to  do  it  in  company.  "  Put  it  in  the 
bath  tub,  of  course,"  she  repeated  impa- 
tiently. 

"  But  that's  just  what  the  whole  discussion's 
been  about,"  explained  Temp.  "  We  haven't 
any  bath  tub." 

"  Here,  here ! "  interrupted  the  booming 
voice  of  the  expressman,  "  I  can't  wait  all  clay. 
Where  do  you  want  this  coal?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  Temp,  "  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  my  dear  sir,  we  don't  want  it  at  all,  but  if 
you  insist  — 


insist " 


None  of  your  cheek.     If  you  don't  look 

136 


A  TON  OF  COAL 


alive,  I'll  put  it  in  the  middle  of  the  floor."  He 
turned  from  them  to  the  stairs.     "  Jake!  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  implored  Bettina,  "  don't  do 
that ! '  She  turned  wide,  frightened  eyes  upon 
the  accomplice  of  Jake. 

Then  she  adopted  more  practical  methods. 
"  Nessa,  get  off  that  trunk.  Do  you  mind? 
Temp,  drag  that  other  one  here.  Both  of  you 
help  me  take  the  things  out."  And  in  a  few 
moments  most  of  the  coal  was  stored,  while  the 
remainder  of  it  and  Bettina's  party  dresses 
filled  the  studio. 

Thus  one  problem  was  solved,  but  every 
time  they  solved  a  problem  it  seemed  only  to 
give  place  to  a  score  of  others.  Usually  they 
did  not  solve  them.  They  only  shoved  them  in 
on  top  of  each  other  like  Bluebeard's  wives,  on 
the  theory  that  one  might  as  well  have  twenty 
skeletons  in  the  closet  as  one. 

But  problems  did  not  annoy  Temp,  except 
momentarily.  His  was  a  mind  trained  for  so 
long  to  contemplate  beauty  that  now  it  turned 
away  automatically  from  contemplating  any- 
thing else. 

As  for  Bettina,  she  could  not  plan  and  ar- 

137 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


range,  and  at  the  same  time  be  a  cheery,  bright 
companion,  and  she  considered  it  her  duty  to 
Art  to  keep  Temp  happy.  It  was  only  when 
he  was  happy  that  he  was  able  to  do  his  best 
work. 

Bettina  had  an  uneasy  presentiment  that 
somewhere  in  the  future  was  awaiting  a  terrible 
crash,  but  she  tried  not  to  think  of  it,  and,  any- 
way, she  always  had  liked  to  dance.  Why 
should  one  spoil  one's  good  times  with  gloomy 
forebodings?  So  she  just  put  the  bills  un- 
opened into  Temp's  waste-paper  basket  with 
all  the  discarded  first  drafts  of  his  poems,  and 
he  and  she  were  very  happy. 


138 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MUST  THERE  ALWAYS  BE  CAUSES? 

The  day  after  Temp's  coal  was  delivered 
they  had  more  callers  than  usual.  The  girls 
seemed  by  some  fatality  to  chance  to  sit  in  the 
places  where  there  was  the  most  coal,  and 
smudge  their  light  georgette  dresses  lamen- 
tably, while  the  men  seemed  to  get  tangled 
hopelessly  in  the  masses  of  party  dresses  hang- 
ing fluffily  from  chandeliers,  hooks,  chairs  and 
screens.     It  was  not  exactly  a  successful  party. 

It  distressed  Betty's  hospitable  soul  not  to 
be  able  to  offer  anyone  anything  to  eat,  but  she 
knew  that  if  they  once  got  really  interested  in 
a  conversation,  no  one  would  probably  know 
the  difference. 

Therefore  she  relaxed  with  relief  when  she 
heard  the  talk  take  a  political  turn.  She  had 
hoped  for  that  or  free  verse,  either  one. 

She  smiled  across  at  Temp. 

He  beamed  at  her. 

139 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Their  guests  were  having  a  good  time  now. 
They  were  all  talking  at  once.  But  this  was 
rather  disastrous  to  Betty's  wardrobe,  because 
the  more  thoroughly  interesting  the  discussion 
became,  the  more  the  talkers  became  enmeshed 
in  the  dangling  sashes  and  ribbons  of  her  party 
dresses,  and  the  more  unseeingly  and  rudely 
they  cast  off  the  trammeling  bonds.  There 
were  sounds  about  the  room  of  rips  and  tears, 
and  Bettina  had  a  disturbed  moment  when  she 
reflected  upon  what  an  easy  missile  loose  coal 
would  prove  to  people  who  found  themselves 
seriously  disagreeing  with  one  another. 

Perhaps  it  was  these  uneasy  thoughts  which 
made  it  impossible  for  her  to  feel  the  usual 
glamour  which  talk  of  these  brilliant  people 
produced.  She  was  like  a  late-coming  specta- 
tor at  a  display  of  Hindu  magic,  who  has  by  an 
oversight  not  been  hypnotized. 

She  could  not  see  what  these  people  saw. 

She  had  seen  it  before,  but  not  this  time.     She 

was  somewhat  dismayed.    She  listened  closely, 

more  ready  to  be  convinced  than  ever.    But  the 

miracle  did  not  work. 

Doubt  had  entered,  like  the  snake  in  the  gar- 

140 


MUST  THERE  BE  CAUSES? 

den,  and  she  was  no  longer  content  with  the 
Eden  of  her  new  political  beliefs. 

Her  eyes  went  timidly  to  Temp  for  help,  but 
Temp  was  talking  too.  How  disappointed  he 
would  be  in  her ! 

But  suddenly  she  didn't  care.  Suddenly 
she  knew  she  was  tired,  tired,  tired  of  the  Revo- 
lution. She  knew  the  bitter  truth  about  her- 
self. She  had  never  really  cared  about  the 
Right  and  Left  wings. 

Rettina  mixed  all  things  radical  in  one 
amicable  heap  in  her  mind.  The  cults  that 
fought  each  other  most  bitterly  seemed  to  her 
the  same  thing.  But  in  that  she  was  like  most 
other  people. 

She  sat  stricken  while  the  talk  went  soar- 
ingly  on.  Temp's  eyes  were  starry,  his  face 
was  that  of  the  statue  of  a  Greek  god  suddenly 
come  alive,  and  so  alive !  Talking  always  was 
becoming  to  Temp. 

He  cared  tremendously  about  what  they 
were  saying.  Bettina  had  cared,  too,  yester- 
day. But  to-day  she  did  not.  And  no,  she 
hadn't,  really,  yesterday.     It  was  just  because 

it  had  been  different  that  she  thought  it  won- 

141 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


derful.  It  was  just  because  William  Clark 
and  the  great  mass  of  middle-class  humanity 
who  had  never  been  below  Fourteenth,  thought 
these  doctrines  incendiary  and  dreadful  that 
she  had  been  fascinated  by  them. 

But  why  wasn't  she  fascinated  now?  As 
she  sat  there  she  tried  desperately  to  be,  but  she 
couldn't.  She  was  tired  of  the  special  brand 
of  slang  that  went  with  it.  She  felt  that  if  she 
heard  the  words  "  syndicalism,"  "  capitalistic 
press,"  "  exploited,"  "  revolution,"  once  more, 
she  should  scream. 

And,  really,  there  was  not  room  to  scream, 
in  the  Village. 

She  looked  at  Temp's  nose.  How  Greek 
and  beautif ul  it  was !  Surely  she  could  refrain 
from  thinking  of  radical  theories  if  she  kept  her 
eyes  firmly  upon  Temp's  nose ! 

No  one  noticed  that  she  was  not  listening. 
Everyone  was  too  busy  talking  to  be  polite. 
Not  that  they  usually  were,  anyway.  The 
men  believed  too  firmly  that  women  were  their 
equals  to  be  courteous  to  girls,  and  the  girls  be- 
lieved it  too  firmly  to  be  courteous  to  each 

other. 

142 


MUST  THERE  BE  CAUSES? 

All  would  have  been  well  had  not  the  fattest 
of  the  Russian  girls  taken  occasion  to  speak 
softly  of  the  Cause. 

Someone  rose  from  her  seat.  Her  chair 
scraped  noisily.  Everyone  turned  to  look  at 
her. 

"  Oh,"  said  Bettina,  with  a  low  moan,  "  must 
there  always  be  causes?  "  She  clutched  at  her 
chair  back.  There  were  desperation  and  plead- 
ing in  her  tones. 

A  tense  silence  held  the  room.  The  mouth 
of  the  Russian  girl  gaped.  The  thin  suffrage 
lecturer  looked  disapprovingly  at  Betty.  She 
always  had  distrusted  her.  She  was  much  too 
pretty. 

Betty  turned  to  Temp  pleadingly,  mildly  in- 
tent on  explaining. 

' 1  am  so  tired  of  there  always  being  causes," 
she  said. 

Temp  rose  and  went  sympathetically  over 
toward  her. 

"  She's  a  little  unstrung,"  he  told  the  com- 
pany. "  She's  been  dancing  every  night — and 
all    these   meetings    and   things,"    his    words 

trailed  off  vaguely. 

143 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


There  was  a  sympathetic  murmur.  A  little 
after,  the  party  were  all  having  coffee  on  Sixth. 
The  prettiest  girl  leaned  over  kindly  to  Betty. 

"  Dear  Betty,"  she  said,  and  patted  her 
hand.  "  IVe  a  little  capsule  I  take.  It  quiets 
the  nerves  wonderfully.  I'll  bring  you  over  a 
couple  to-morrow." 


144 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BETTINA  AND  THE  BUS  CONDUCTOR 

The  dense  crowds  on  top  of  buses,  except 
for  those  obviously  lovers,  are  made  up  of  peo- 
ple who  have  been  jilted,  or  whose  shares  in  oil 
mines  have  proven  worthless.  They  climb  to 
the  top  with  melancholy  faces,  and  half  an  hour 
later  climb  down  beaming  good-will,  and  health 
thoughts.  The  power  of  nature  and  the  open 
air  is  well  known,  but  it  must  be  an  influence 
subtler  than  that.  Perhaps  there  is  something 
about  the  green  paint. 

All  the  usual  types  were  present  to-day, 
paying  their  fee  of  ten  cents  to  be  "  psyched  " 
by  Nature.  Besides,  Bettina  was  on  the  bus. 
It  seemed  to  be  the  only  place  just  now  where 
she  could  be  alone. 

She  had  a  good  deal  to  think  over.     Many 

things  had  happened  since  that  eventful  day 

now  almost  a  month  ago,  when  she  had  gone 

145 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


off  to  embrace  blindly  whatever  causes  there 
might  be.  So  many  theories  had  been  hurled 
at  her  at  once  that  she  had  to  be  alone  a  bit  to 
unsnarl  them. 

She  was  already  ashamed  of  her  ungrateful 
outburst  about  causes.  She  had  even  taken 
the  capsules.  But  she  still  seemed  to  have 
nerves.  She  had  never  had  nerves  above  Four- 
teenth Street,  but  then  she  loyally  refused  to 
remember  that. 

But,  there  were  so  many  sensations  she  was 
feeling  just  now.  Could  it  be  that  she  was 
tiring  of  things  in  Elysium?  Could  it  be  that 
she  was  homesick? 

Ever  since  coming  to  the  Village  Bettina 
had  felt  uneasily  a  lack  of  something. 

Finally  she  had  begun  dimly  to  comprehend 
that  it  might  be  soap. 

"  Where,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  do  these  Bol- 
shevists ever  get  soap  boxes  anyway?  One 
would  think  they'd  be  the  last  persons  to  have 
them!  And  what  do  they  do  with  the  soap 
first?  I  think  no  evidences  have  ever  been  dis- 
covered? "     None,  since  she  had  been  in  the 

Village,  had  ever  been  found  by  her. 

146 


THE  BUS  CONDUCTOR 


Ever  since  Bettina  had  discovered  the  class 
war,  she  had  been  too  wildly  excited  to  care 
greatly  about  clean  table-cloths  or  such  things, 
but  now  she  began  to  have  a  hankering  for  the 
flesh  pots. 

She  went  up  to  the  Public  Library  for  a 
sight  of  a  quiet,  clean,  orderly  place,  and  had 
no  sooner  sunk  gratefully  into  a  seat  at  one  of 
the  long  tables  than  she  looked  across  to  find 
an  unkempt,  shaggy,  anarchist-looking  person 
opposite  her.  She  did  not  feel  that  he  had  less 
right  to  be  there  than  anyone  else — only  she 
had  come  for  a  change. 

She  went  to  church  on  Fifth  Avenue,  the  one 
sure  retreat  of  conservatism,  and  the  sermon 
was  about  "  Christ,  the  first  Socialist." 

After  that,  Bettina  gave  up  in  despair. 

She  thought  of  all  this  now,  as  she  sat 
mournfully  in  the  windy  front  seat  of  the  bus, 
with  her  chin  in  her  hand. 

Below  her  walked  New  York.  As  the  bus 
went  farther  up  and  left  the  white  arch  behind, 
New  York,  sauntering  past  her,  seemed  to 
grow  gayer  with  violets  and  orchids. 

Orchids!     Should  she  ever  see  an  orchid 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


again,  except  in  a  shop  window?  No,  never! 
She  would  be  a  traitor  to  her  class  if  she  wore 
one.     Her  adopted  class,  that  is. 

Her  eyes  filled  as  she  reflected  that  she 
would  probably  never  sit  in  a  taxi  again.  She 
never  before  had  appreciated  taxis.  Now  they 
seemed  to  her  eye  marvels  of  perfection. 
Would  she  ever  again  even  have  her  carfare  on 
the  "  "La  "  paid?  Darn  this  equality  of  women, 
anyway ! 

"  Fare,  please!" 

She  started.  Here  she  was,  caught  with- 
out her  dime  ready.  Surely  if  she'd  learned 
nothing  else  this  past  month,  she  ought 
to  have  become  an  adept  at  paying  her  car- 
fare. 

She  looked  interestedly  at  the  young  con- 
ductor as  she  pushed  her  dime  firmly  into  the 
slot.  She  wondered  if  he  had  Bolshevist  the- 
ories, or  if  he  paid  his  wife's  carfare.  Some- 
how, he  looked  as  if  he  did  pay  it. 

She  thought  mournfully  of  that  world  from 
which  she  was  forever  shut  out,  the  world 
where  men  paid  for  their  own  meals,  and  even 

for  those  of  the  ladies  they  took  out  to  dinner. 

148  ' 


THE  BUS  CONDUCTOR 


She  wished  ardently  that  she  were  safely, 
sanely,  married  to  the  young  conductor. 

But  even  as  that  peaceful  thought  crossed 
her  mind  she  remembered  Temp's  face. 

Dear  Temp,  how  very  Greek  his  nose  was! 
And  how  very  innocent  his  heart!  It  was 
adorable  being  allowed  to  pay  the  bills  of  any- 
one who  could  make  love  in  such  an  enchanting 
voice ! 

And  by  the  time  the  bus  had  clumsily  turned 
and  made  its  way  back  down  the  Drive  and  the 
Avenue,  and  under  the  Washington  Arch,  and 
had  swung  to  its  destination,  she  could  climb 
down  the  steps  with  a  rush  of  love  for  the  red 
brick  houses  of  the  Village,  and  wildly  eager  to 
take  Temp  to  tea,  was  ready  to  say,  "  Thy  peo- 
ple shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  cause,  my 
cause." 


149 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  WHITE  AND  GOLD  CHAIR 

"  Of  course,  the  touch  of  lips  is  a  more  per- 
fect lyric  than  any  words  can  write,"  asserted 
Temp,  "  but  one  can't  go  about  kissing 
editors,"  he  added  after  a  gloomy  pause. 

Bettina  heard  the  murmur  of  his  voice  ab- 
sently. "  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you, 
Temp? "  she  asked. 

He  shot  a  suspicious  glance  at  her,  but  was 
reassured.  "  No,"  he  said.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  this  for  a  first  line?  "  He  paused  im- 
pressively, raised  his  hand,  and  declaimed  in 
the  awed,  hushed,  but  sonorous  voice  he  kept 
for  poetry,  more  particularly  his  own : 


"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes. 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  Bettina,  startled. 

His  gaze  was  on  his  paper. 

150 


9> 


THE  GOLD  CHAIR 


"  Rather  good,  I  think,"  he  said,  compla- 
cently. He  read  it  again,  more  sonorously, 
more  awed,  more  slowly: 

"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes." 

"  It  isn't  every  day,"  he  mused,  "  one  can 
write  a  line  like  that." 

"  I'm  sure  it  isn't,"  assented  Bettina  politely. 

He  looked  at  her  fondly.  "  You  always  un- 
derstand me,"  he  whispered. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  sadly. 

"  Shall  I  read  you  the  poem? "  asked  Temp 
in  holy  tones. 

"Do!" 

He  took  his  stand  prayerfully,  raised  his 
arm,  and  opened  his  lips. 

"  Hoo-hoo ! "  came  a  hopeful  feminine  call 
from  the  street  below. 

"  Stick  your  head  out  of  the  window,  Temp, 
and  tell  her  to  come  on  up,"  directed  Betty. 

"  Come  on  up,  Paula!  " 

Temp  opened  the  door  for  her  eagerly  a  mo- 
ment later. 

"I  say,  Paula,  I've  just  finished  a  new 
poem.     Shall  I  read  it  to  you?  " 

151 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Oh,  do,  Temp ! ' '  cried  Paula  sincerely. 

Temp  absently  placed  a  chair  for  her,  his 
eyes  still  upon  his  paper.  Then  he  took  his 
stand  before  her,  raised  the  paper  to  a  height 
which  made  the  sweep  of  his  arm  more  artistic, 
threw  back  his  splendid  head,  and  with  rapt 
eyes  waited  a  moment.  That  hushed  pause 
was  a  wonderful  preparation  for  the  reading  of 
a  serious  poem,  and  Temp  always  got  his  hear- 
ers into  the  proper  mood  by  an  almost  uncon- 
scious, but  most  effective  use  of  it.  Then  his 
liquid,  low,  deep,  altogether  lovely  voice  began: 

"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes." 

"  Oh,  Betty,"  interrupted  Paula  briskly, 
have  you  seen  the  new  red  tarns  at  Wana- 
maker's?  Nessa's  just  bought  one.  Positively 
sinful,  I  call  it.  They  make  one  look  nineteen. 
The  mothers  of  eligible  girls  ought  to  do  some- 
thing abouti  it.  Oh,  do  go  on,  Temp,  I'm 
awfully  sorry,  I'm  sure.  I  just  forgot  about 
the  poem!" 

Temp  looked  at  tier  with  the  calm  for- 
giveness in  his  lovely  eyes  with  which  a  martyr 

might  have  looked  up  from  the  lions  in  the 

152 


<e 


THE  GOLD  CHAIR 


arena  toward  her.  Bettina's  heart  bled  for 
him,  but  he  bore  his  hurt  nobly.  He  raised  his 
hand  again,  waited  for  an  even  longer  pause, 
then  began: 

"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes." 

Paula  and  Bettina  were  hanging  on  his 
words,  awed  and  hushed.  There  was  a  rush  on 
the  stairs  outside,  a  buzz  of  chatter,  and,  with- 
out knocking,  Nessa  flung  open  the  door  and 
flounced  in,  followed  by  Petra. 

"  Hello,  everybody !  How  do  you  like  my 
new  tarn?  If  it  doesn't  bring  at  least  four 
proposals  I'll  consider  that  I  wasted  three  dol- 
lars! Oh,  Temp,  what's  that  in  your  hand? 
Poem?    New  one?    Do  read  it  to  us! ' 

Temp's  crestfallen  look  gave  way  to  a  trust- 
ful, happy  smile. 

"  Read  it  right  now!  "  demanded  Nessa  with 

her  pretty,  peremptory  air  of  a  spoiled  child. 

"  Right  this  minute!    Betty,  Sonia's  fallen  out 

with  Jim  at  last !    Who  would  have  believed  it  ? 

And  Tad's  had  a  poem  taken  by  Century! 

He's  paid  his  bill  at '  Three  Steps  Down.'  You 

know  he  used  to  say  that  having  a  poem  ac- 

153 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


cepted  proves  that  it's  no  good,  but  now  he 
says  that  art  in  America  is  looking  up." 

"  Can't  you  find  a  chair,  Petra? "  asked 
Betty  hospitably.  '  Just  brush  that  pile  of 
magazines  off  on  the  floor.  Be  careful  of  that 
coal.  It's  frightfully  hard  to  get  off  your 
dress." 

"  Betty,  what  are  you  going  to  wear  to 
Bobby  Edwards'  Cockroach  Ball? "  It  was 
Nessa's  exclamatory,  underlined,  excited  tones 
again.  "  I  haven't  a  thing  but  my  rhythm 
rags,  and  Greek  nymphs  are  awfully  overdone. 
Temp,  do  hurry  up  and  read  us  that  poem. 
What  are  you  keeping  us  waiting  for?  " 

Temp  hopefully  raised  his  arm  half-way. 

"  Oh,  Betty,  have  you  any  powder?  My 
nose  is  a  fright.  Thanks.  And  your  mirror. 
Thanks,  awfully!     Go  on,  Temp !  " 

Where  was  that  atmosphere  of  restful  in- 
vitation to  Beauty?  Temp  tried  to  invoke  it 
once  again. 

He  prayed  to  Beauty  with  his  eyes.    Surely 

people  must  observe  silence  when  they  see  a 

man  at  his  devotions. 

But  not  these  girls.     It  was  of  no  use. 

154 


THE  GOLD  CHAIR 


Chatter,  gossip !  Temp  ran  his  shapely  white 
hand  through  his  blond  hair  in  anguish. 

Betty  stole  to  his  side. 

"  Never  mind,  Temp,"  she  whispered. 
"  They're  not  poets,  and  they  don't  understand. 
But  to-morrow  afternoon's  the  *  Younger  Free 
Verse  Poets' '  meeting,  you  know.  Don't  you 
remember  they're  to  meet  here?  And  no  one 
will  interrupt  you  then! " 

Temp  straightened.  His  face  brightened. 
Of  course!  No  one  would  interrupt  then. 
Poets  all,  how  soothing  it  would  be.  The 
quiet  room,  the  kindred  spirits — the  unspoiled 
communion  with  Beauty !  He  gave  Bettina  a 
grateful  glance.  Then,  more  contentedly,  but 
still  with  a  stifled  sigh,  he  folded  up  his  poem. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Temp?  "  cried  Paula. 
"  Don't  mind  these  infants.  Go  on,  I  want 
to  hear  that  poem." 

Temp   could   have   kissed   the  hem  of  her 

plaid  walking  skirt.     A  poem  really  should  be 

tried  aloud  while  it  is  fresh,  while  the  pride  of 

the  author  still  sees  the  trailing  clouds  of  glory 

hanging  about  it. 

He  moved  over  toward  the  window  with 

155 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Paula  and  the  loyal  Betty,  and  left  Nessa  and 
Petra  deep  in  the  planning  of  costumes  and 
gossip  of  the  Square. 

Paula  took  the  only  good  chair,  while  Betty 
sat  in  her  favorite  position,  on  the  floor,  with 
her  feet  curled  up  under  her. 

Temp  would  have  liked  to  choose  the  floor 
himself,  hut  he  felt  that  this  of  all  poems  de- 
manded surroundings  of  dignity. 

He  sat  carefully  upon  a  very  fragile  white 
and  gold  chair  which  was  a  relic  of  some  long- 
ago  tenant's  strivings  toward  the  beautiful. 
Because  of  its  indisputably  spindling  appear- 
ance, he  had  always  avoided  that  chair  when 
they  had  had  more  room,  before  the  ton  of  coal 
had  come  to  make  his  home  its  abiding  place. 

He  pulled  the  patient  paper  out  of  his  cor- 
duroy pocket  once  more.  At  sight  of  it  all  his 
satisfaction  came  back.  He  knew  he  had  done 
a  good  thing — something  that  would  live. 

Reading  his  face,  Betty  beamed.    She,  too, 

realized  that  this  was  a  piece  of  Art,  and  she 

was  to  see  it  before  the  world  could.    Tears  of 

earnestness  and  gratitude  misted  her  eyes. 

Temp  was  ready.    He  threw  back  his  head, 

156 


THE  GOLD  CHAIR 


ran  his  graceful  hand  through  his  golden  hair, 
and  let  his  face  find  its  rapt  look.  His  eyes 
were  like  Galahad's  at  such  moments.  But 
best  of  all  was  his  melodious  moving  voice. 

He  raised  his  hand  once  more;  opened  his 
chiseled  lips : 

"There  are  no  drowned  men  in  her  eyes " 

A  rending  crash  broke  the  hush.    A  thud. 
The  white  and  gold  chair  had  collapsed. 


157 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  STRAP-HANGER  TO  THE  SARDINE 

"  Free  verse  is  the  Ford  car  of  literature/' 
the  boyish  poet  with  black  curly  hair  was  say- 
ing bitterly.  "  It's  within  the  reach  of  every- 
one. That's  why  it  was  so  suddenly  preva- 
lent." 

"  Not  real  free  verse,"  objected  Temp  loy- 
ally.   "  Anyone  can  imitate  it." 

"  Yes,  but  how  can  you  tell  which  is  the  imi- 
tation? Witter  Bynner  was  better  imitating 
than  when  he  was  writing  his  own  stuff,"  the 
curly  haired  one  answered  gloomily. 

"  Anyway,"  said  a  Russian  girl  in  a  yellow 
blouse,  brightly,  "  Vers  Libre  has  freed  us ! ' 

A  confirmatory  murmur  ran  round  the  room. 

"From  what?"  Bettina  wondered,  and  if 
poets,  as  a  sect,  were  so  unhappy  now,  what 
must  they  have  been  before  they  were  freed? 

The  Younger  Free  Verse  Poets  were  holding 

their  monthly  meeting.    Betty  and  Temp,  with 

158 


THE  STRAP-HANGER 


Paula  assisting,  had  had  some  trouble  bestow- 
ing them  in  corners  and  along  the  sides  of  the 
room  in  necessary  but  not  too  close  juxtaposi- 
tion to  the  coal. 

It  was  an  inspiring  meeting.  Bettina  had 
never  seen  so  many  poets  together  before.  She 
had  known  poets  were  earnest,  she  had  had 
ample  opportunity  of  late,  in  fact,  to  notice  it. 
But  the  effect  of  so  much  earnestness  at  a  given 
moment  in  one  room  was  overpowering. 

She  couldn't  remember  many  of  their  names, 
and  as  they  all  called  each  other  by  the  most 
fantastic  nicknames,  she  was  not  helped,  as  the 
afternoon  went  on,  to  straighten  them  out. 

But  it  was  none  the  less  exciting.  Indeed, 
more  so.  For  she  half  surmised  that  if  she 
heard  the  names  she'd  find  them  unknown, 
whereas  if  she  didn't  she  could  fancy  that  the 
greatest  names  in  contemporary  poetry  were 
borne  by  her  coal-surrounded  guests.  She  was 
thrilled,  through  and  through. 

But  her  great  excitement  came,  not  from  the 
fact  that  she,  obscure  little  speck,  was  entirely 
surrounded  by  poets,  but  from  her  vivid  reali- 
zation of  the  fact  that  this  was  the  thirtieth 

159 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


day.  The  month  of  probation  for  Temp  and 
all  that  he  stood  for,  was  up  to-day. 

And  she  had  decided.  Of  course  she  wanted 
to  go  on  with  her  experiment  as  she  had 
planned,  but  deep  in  her  heart  she  had  really 
decided.  She  was  going  to  marry  Temp. 
Revolution,  poetry,  irresponsibility — Temp 
was  so  starrily  wonderful  that  he  made  up  for 
it  all. 

She  had  had  her  moments  of  rebellion,  but 
they  had  passed.  She  was  ashamed  of  having 
dared  to  rebel.  How  could  she  ever  have  been 
so  ungrateful !    How  wonderful  all  this  was ! 

These  soulful  thin-faced  women,  these  up- 
lifted boys  with  dreamy  eyes,  how  she  loved 
to  be  allowed,  quietly  and  unobtrusively,  to 
look  at  them ! 

The  men's  suits  were  rather  unpressed,  and 
the  girls'  artistic  garments  somewhat  un- 
hemmed  and  now  and  then  spotted  and  coffee- 
stained,  but  it  was  their  souls  that  mattered. 

And  chief  among  them,  more  shabby  of  coat, 

but  more  shining  of  soul  than  all  the  rest,  was 

Temp,  her  Temp. 

Next  Betty  on  the  left,  sat  Paula.  Her  non- 
160 


THE  STRAPHANGER 


chalant  presence,  and  that  of  Petra  and  Nessa, 
now,  in  the  presence  of  superior  numbers  ut- 
terly subdued,  made  Betty  feel  at  home. 

There  was  a  Philistine  present.  Betty  had 
had  him  pointed  out  by  Petra.  She  had  al- 
ways supposed  they  were  a  dark  people,  like 
the  Jews,  but  this  one  had  small,  blue  eyes  and 
was  stout  and  red-faced. 

She  understood  they  had  done  something 
awful  to  Saul,  or  was  it  Samson,  and  that  all 
poets  had  hated  them  for  it  ever  since.  Other- 
wise she  would  rather  have  liked  the  Philistine, 
whose  name  was  Jenkins. 

Perhaps  sensing  the  fact  that  there  was  the 
bond  of  the  outlander  between  them,  he  had 
taken  a  seat  on  the  floor  at  Bettina's  right.  He 
had  earnestly  refused  his  share  of  the  sofa 
cushions,  and  insisted  that  she  have  them  all. 

In  spite  of  herself,  this  action  of  his  made  a 

warm  glow  about  her  heart.     Men  who  are 

mixed  up  in  causes,  and  the  bleeding  heart  of 

humanity,  and  art,  have  so  little  time  left  for 

the  small  courtesies  of  living.     And  after  a 

while,  even  the  most  contented  and  loyal  Hy- 

patia  misses  them. 

161 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


The  company  now  was  bitterly  denouncing 
the  ancient  outlived  tyranny  of  the  sonnet. 

"  If,"  propounded  Temp  magnificently,  "  I 
don't  naturally  think  in  sonnets,  why  should  I 
be  required  to  think  in  sonnets?  " 

"  I  don't  suppose  anyone  really  wants  him 
to,  or  in  polyrhythmic  prose  either,"  mur- 
mured the  Philistine. 

Bettina  moved  a  bit  farther  from  Mr.  Jen- 
kins. Not  that  she  minded  his  saying  it  at  all, 
but  it  had  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  it  was 
not  dignified  to  sit  quite  so  close  to  anyone. 

"  Never  mind  him,  Betty,"  exclaimed  Paula, 
indignantly,  overhearing.  "  He's  only  a  tired 
business  man  anyway." 

"  What's  this  about  the  tired  Business 
Man? "  inquired  Mr.  Jenkins,  genially,  half 
hearing,  and  turning  to  the  somewhat  discon- 
certed Paula.  "  Considering  the  sort  of  shows 
written  for  him,  I  should  say  it's  no  wonder 
he's  tired." 

Paula   haughtily   refused   to   answer,   and 

Betty  was  too  eagerly  trying  to  catch  Temp's 

golden  words,  to  pay  any  more  attention  to 

Philistines. 

162 


THE  STRAP-HANGER 


But  the  earnest  poets  about  her  were  too 
eager  to  talk  themselves,  and,  someway,  Betty 
was  of  the  exact  nature  to  be  always  singled 
out  as  an  audience. 

A  thin  young  poet  was  sitting  on  the  floor  in 
front  of  her,  for,  seeing  that  the  chairs  were 
heaped  with  household  goods,  the  guests  were 
obliged  to  sit  on  the  floor,  and,  like  the  specta- 
tors of  drama  in  the  Greek  Theatre  at  Berke- 
ley, many  of  them  had  brought  their  own  sofa 
cushions. 

The  thin  young  poet  had  turned  to  her,  his 
eyes  glowing  with  the  awed  light  common  to 
poets  in  action.  He  wrote  rhymed  verse  only, 
and  was  trying  earnestly  to  convert  her.  "  The 
exact  word,"  he  began,  doing  things  in  the  air 
with  his  hands. 

"  Yes,  I  know  about  the  exact  word,"  an- 
swered Bettina  soothingly  and  timidly,  "  but  I 
didn't  think  anybody  except  the  imagists  were 
allowed  to  use  it." 

The  thin  poet  turned  from  her  in  despair, 

and  she  was  able  at  last  to  hear  what  Temp  was 

saying. 

"  Titles  are  an  outworn  convention,"  he  was 

163 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


declaring  nobly.  "  Kreymborg  had  the  fore- 
sight to  do  away  with  punctuation  marks,  and 
capitals,  and  sometimes  even  with  titles,  but 
we  should  not  stop  at  that.  We  should  firmly 
and  definitely  abolish  them  for  all  time." 

There  was  applause  from  a  fat  poet  who 
never  had  been  able  to  think  of  titles  for  his 
things. 

"  Of  course,"  Temp  went  on,  "  the  poet 
should  have  the  title  firmly  in  his  own  mind." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  murmured  the  fat  one. 

"  For  instance,"  continued  Temp,  "  I  shall 
read  you  several  little  things  of  my  own  in 
which  I  have  used  the  principle." 

He  stood  up,  consulted  a  paper  in  his  hand, 
was  silent  an  instant,  until  the  stillness  told 
him  that  the  room  was  en  rapport.  At  the  end 
of  each  line  he  paused  impressively.  Bettina 
thrilled  to  the  words  he  read. 


"Whose  passing  foot 
Disturbed  this  ant-hill?" 

He  lowered  the  paper  and  looked  at  them  in 

triumph.    There  was  a  silence  of  admiration. 

164 


THE  STRAPHANGER 


A  certain  thought  held  each  respectful  listener, 
but  no  one  liked  to  put  it  into  words. 

Finally  the  fat  poet  spoke  out. 

"  What  was  the  title?  "  he  asked. 

" '  Six  O'clock,  at  Forty-Second  and  Broad- 
way/ "  answered  Temp.  "  You  know  the 
crowds,  how  they  scurry  around  like  ants." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approval. 

The  Philistine  turned  to  Bettina  brightly. 
"  Do  you  know,  I  just  thought  of  a  poem.  It 
came  to  me,"  he  added  piously. 

Since  she  did  not  at  all  desire  to,  Bettina 
murmured  politely,  "  I'd  love  to  hear  it." 

His  exquisitely  modulated,  low  voice  mur- 
mured : 


"If  you  were  not  witlt  me    .    .    . 
The  world  would  be  a  cold,  urilighted  place.    .    .   ." 

Bettina  did  not  comment. 

"  The  title  of  that  is,"  said  he  wistfully, 
"  '  The  Camper  to  His  Last  Match.'  " 

Bettina  turned  a  dignified  shoulder  to  him. 

How  dare  he  make  fun  of  art,  and  Temp? 

But,  as  he  said  these  things  only  to  her,  no  harm 

was  done. 

165 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Temp  was  reading  others  of  his  untitled  bits. 
The  audience  and  Bettina  found  them  exceed- 
ingly vital. 

Even  the  Philistine  was  listening  attentively. 

Temp  finished  reading  his  un-titled 
thoughts.  A  murmur  of  approbation  greeted 
him. 

"  Clear-cut  as  an  etching,"  asserted  the  fat 
poet. 

"  Simple  and  yet  profound,"  declared  the 
thin  one. 

Temp  glowed.  Not  that  he  cared  for  praise, 
but  still  it  is  pleasant  in  one's  lifetime  to  have 
the  recognition  of  one's  fellows. 

The  murmured  paean  of  recognition  died 
down.    A  momentary  quietness  held  the  room. 

It  was  broken  by  the  earnest  voice  of  the 
Philistine. 

"  I  have  a  poem  written  with  the  title-less 
idea  in  mind,"  he  proffered  mildly.  "  I  wonder 
if  you  would  care  — 


j> 


"  Certainly,  certainly,"  offered  Temp  gra- 
ciously.    "  We  shall  be  glad  to  hear  it." 
The  Philistine  rose.    He  was  a  ponderous, 

un-willowy,  red-faced  person,  but  he  had  a 

166 


THE  STRAP-HANGER 


wonderful  voice.  Wistful,  appealing,  poign- 
ant, haunting.  It  was  a  voice  which  would 
have  made  the  most  banal  things  beautiful. 
That  voice,  joined  to  the  words  of  yearning  and 
longing  and  sympathy  of  his  poem  would  have 
moved  the  heart  of  a  stone. 

After  each  line,  he  paused,  his  lingering, 
hurt  voice  bringing  tears  to  the  eyes.  He  made 
a  long  pause  before  the  last  word,  and  then 
whispered  it.  One  felt  the  poet's  sincerity,  his 
sympathy  with  the  crushed. 

"Small  one  .  .  . 
Beautiful  .  .  . 
I  also — understand.    .    .    ." 

The  silence  was  applause,  earnest,  un- 
doubted. 

Temp's  voice,  when  he  spoke,  was  keyed  to 
the  intensity  of  the  poem  just  spoken. 

A  lovely  thing,' '  he  pronounced,  moved. 

What  is  your  title  for  it? " 

The  red-faced  man  had  a  clear  voice.  "  *  The 
Strap-hanger  to  the  Sardine,'  "  he  said. 

Betty  was  not  quite  sure,  in  the  general  tur- 
moil of  the  next  few  moments,  whether  the 

167 


tt 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Philistine  was  put  out,  or  went  of  his  own  ac- 
cord. 

The  indignant  chatter  had  died  down,  and 
the  poets  were  again  finding  each  his  own 
sofa  cushion.  They  were  all  a  little  sad.  Bet- 
tina  wondered  how  anyone  could  have  done 
such  a  terrible  thing.  In  the  crushed  silence, 
Temp  summed  up  the  shameful  interlude. 

"  There  are  some  men,"  said  he,  bitterly, 
"  to  whom  nothing  is  sacred." 


168 


CHAPTER  XX 

PICNICKING  ON  PARNASSUS 

The  unpleasant  incident  of  Mr.  Jenkins 
was  forgotten  as  soon  as  possible,  and  the 
stream  of  poesy  flowed  on.  "  Poisy "  one 
would  have  said,  Bettina  supposed.  She  no- 
ticed that  everyone  present  said  "  poit,"  and 
"  poim,"  in  a  queer,  quick  monosyllable.  They 
did  that  at  the  Poetry  Society,  also,  Paula  told 
her,  so  it  must  be  quite  the  thing.  And  there 
were  many  queerer  things  about  poits  than 
their  pronunciation,  Betty  found. 

But  on  the  whole,  how  she  liked  them!  How 
wonderfully  they  had  all  taken  the  incident  of 
the  paint  for  instance.  Indeed,  they  had  been 
so  tactful  about  it  that  Betty  herself  had  for- 
gotten it  until  this  instant.  The  day  before, 
having  borrowed  a  dollar,  she  and  Temp  had 

been  seized  with  a  civic  zeal  to  improve  the  ap- 

169 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


pearance  of  the  studio.  He  had  gone  across 
to  Sixth  Avenue  and  bought  the  cans  of  paint 
and  the  brushes,  and  together  they  had  untir- 
ingly painted  every  chair  they  could  drag  out 
from  under  the  debris.  Luckily  there  was  paint 
enough,  also  for  the  table,  the  box  which  served 
as  a  support  for  the  typewriter,  and  everything 
else  that  could  possibly  be  painted.  Then,  be- 
cause they  hated  to  waste  any  paint,  they  went 
over  them  all  again. 

Everything  was  painted  a  dull  black,  with 
decorative  clusters  at  the  edges  of  purple  and 
green  sort  of  circular,  globular  looking  flowers 
and  fruits.  It  was  quite  in  the  Village  tradi- 
tion. 

But  as  soon  as  everything  was  finished,  Bet- 
tina  discovered  that  the  smell  of  the  paint  made 
her  sick,  and  Temp  that  it  seemed  to  have  no 
intention  of  drying,  but  came  off  on  everything, 
so  they  sensibly  moved  all  the  furniture  into 
the  hall. 

They  had  forgotten  all  about  it  by  the  time 

the  guests  were  to  arrive,  and  owing  to  the  hall 

being  very  dark,  the  poets,  one  by  one,  or  in 

twos  and  threes,  had  stumbled  over  the  furni- 

170 


PICNICKING 


ture,  with  disastrous  results,  particularly  to 
those  who  happened  to  be  wearing  light  colors. 

Betty  was  distressed,  but  what  could  they 
do  ?  After  the  room  was  half  full  of  poets,  they 
obviously  could  not  bring  in  the  sticky  furni- 
ture to  wreak  further  havoc.  Temp  contented 
himself  with  standing  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
and  shouting,  "  Mind  the  paint! "  at  each  new 
arrival,  which,  since  they  all  took  it  as  a  false 
alarm  and  a  joke,  was  really  not  so  useful  as  it 
might  have  been. 

But,  having  their  minds  fixed  on  higher 
things,  they  were  a  forgiving  group,  and  for 
that,  Betty  warmed  to  them. 

She  had  been  stricken  with  remorse,  until 
she  heard  Mr.  Jenkins  smash  into  the  black 
table  in  the  hall  on  his  way  out.  Then  her 
heart  felt  a  thrill  of  gratitude  toward  the  faith- 
ful table,  alert  and  vigorous  defender;  and  she 
was  glad  that  Temp  had  the  foresight  to  sug- 
gest decorating  the  furniture.  Temp  was  al- 
ways so  clever! 

Admiring  him  so  thoroughly,  Betty  was 

obliged  to  admire  also  his  roomful  of  poets,  and 

she  did  so.    Particularly  the  men.    They  were 

171 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


so  different  from  certain  others  she  had  known, 
lawyers,  for  example.  Of  course,  there  had 
been  times  when  she  rebelled  tearfully  against 
these  temperamental,  artistic  men  who  were  as 
selfishly  devoted  to  Art  as  monks  and  things 
once  were  to  saving  their  own  souls;  but  she 
was  ashamed  of  rebelling.  It  was  only  in  mo- 
ments of  weakness  that  she  wanted  to  marry 
bus  conductors,  who  paid  the  bills. 

She  was  grateful  to-day  for  having  been 
hauled  and  hoisted,  puffing,  up  the  trail,  and 
allowed  to  picnic  on  Parnassus  with  the  right- 
ful inhabitants.  How  little  she  deserved  to  be 
there.  She  couldn't  have  written  anything  like 
these  poems  they  were  reading! 

For  instance,  the  one  that  the  inkiest 
bloused,  blazing-est  eyed  girl  was  reading  now, 
in  a  voice  awed  at  the  beauty  of  her  own  im- 
aginings, something  about: 


it 


Finding  words  that  fit  like  stones  into  one  another, 

And  of  them  building  walls 

To  shut  out  that  sly  thief,  Death.    .    .     ." 

Betty  could  almost  hear  the  dots. 

Now  the  intense  lady  was  intoning  another: 

172 


PICNICKING 


"With  all  my  passion  for  myself,  I  am  frustrated, 
For  there  is  a  part  of  myself  that  eludes  me  still. 
For  that  I  will  but  crush  my  spirit  more  passion- 

ately 
And  try  to  forget.    .    .    ." 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  Bettina.  But  before  one 
had  more  than  begun  wondering  what  it  could 
possibly  mean,  the  current  comment  had  swept 
it  out  of  sight. 

Now  a  slim,  pale  poet  rose,  awkward,  but 
very  earnest.  One  understood  that  he  had  to 
do  with  the  new  nature  poetry. 

Betty  guessed,  from  looking  at  him,  that  he 
had  never  gotten  nearer  nature  than  accident- 
ally seeing  the  moon  from  Fifth  Avenue,  but, 
of  course,  only  a  reactionary  would  hold  that 
against  him. 

"I  had  forgotten  you!9  he  began,  tragic- 
ally, getting  out  each  word  with  a  jerk,  and 
stopping  so  long  after  it  that  his  poems  were, 
as  he  himself  might  delicately  have  defined 
them,  beads  of  syllables  on  a  thread  of  pauses: 

"I  had  forgotten  you  in  the  forest, 
The  forest  which  is  so  unlike  you; 
So  still,  so  wise,  so  calm. 

173 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Then  a  bird  sang 

Suddenly,  sweet,  swift, 

And  flew  past  me 

And  I  lay  sobbing  under  the  stars.    .    .    ."    • 

That  last  line  was  realistic.  Betty  could 
readily  imagine  him  sobbing.  He  was  that 
kind.  But  how  had  he  ever  heard  about  sword 
ferns,  she  wondered,  for  his  next  poem  de- 
clared: 

"The  sword  ferns  over  my  head  break  the  sun- 
light into  bars  like  silver 
From  some  mine  in  Peru 
And  I  clutch  at  the  bars. 
But  they  are  too  heavy 
And  fall  through  my  fingers.    .    .    ." 

There  was  wistfulness  in  his  voice;  one  was 
moved  to  tears. 

"Beautiful!"  commented  Temp,  in  the  si- 
lence which  was  applause.  "  All  the  disap- 
pointments of  humanity  in  a  line." 

"  Five  lines,"  murmured  Bettina. 

Then  the  poet  proceeded  to  put  love  into  a 
line  or  two.  His  mournful,  sweet,  disap- 
pointed voice  asserted  wearily: 

174 


PICNICKING 


t( 


My  thoughts  of  you 

Are  so  many  veils 

Bound  around  my  eyes 

To  keep  me  from  seeing 

The  path  to  pain, 

To  keep  me  from  finding 

The  narrow  path 

That  leads  to  wisdom.    .    .    ." 


One  was  obliged  to  think  of  love  in  that  tone. 
It  was  the  tradition  among  the  clear-visioned 
artistic  ones.  Betty  had  a  fleeting  mental  im- 
age of  the  bus  conductor.  She  did  not  believe 
he  thought  of  his  wife  in  that  melancholy  way. 
But,  of  course,  what  did  a  bus  conductor  know 
of  love? 

The  next  poem  was  long  and  intense,  and  as 
full  of  dripping  blood  and  ruined  castles  as 
though  it  were  a  composition  by  Amy  Howell. 

Only,  alas,  it  so  very  clearly  was  not ! 

Nevertheless,  it  held  the  audience  in  a 
breathless  silence.  A  silence,  however,  that 
was  broken  all  too  soon. 

There  was  a  noise  of  stumbling,  a  knock  at 
the  door,  and  a  clear,  manly  voice  sang  out: 
Laundry  bill ! " 

175 


« 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ENTER  THE  LAUNDRYMAN 

"What  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Temp 
haughtily,  as,  the  door  not  having  been  locked 
after  the  Jenkins  hejira,  the  head  of  the  laun- 
dryman  was  thrust  in. 

It  was  clearly  a  rhetorical  question  only,  but 
the  shameless  and  unabashed  laundryman  in- 
sisted upon  taking  it  literally. 

"  Bill.  Laundry.  Clean  your  clothes,"  he 
explained  genially.  Then,  to  further  eluci- 
date: "Washee,  washee!"  and  the  wretched 
person  went  through  a  vigorous  pantomime  of 
rubbing  clothes  on  a  washboard. 

Temp  stood  before  him  in  outraged  pride, 

looking  as  Sir  Galahad  might  have  looked  if 

he  had  been  accused  of  throwing  a  kiss  to  a 

chorus  girl. 

Temp  had  not  paid  for  his  laundry  for 

176 


THE  LAUNDRYMAN 


months.  He  looked  able-bodied  and  lived  in 
the  same  block,  and  they  had  thought  him  a 
good  risk.    But  all  things  come  to  an  end. 

Temp,  though  a  master  of  words,  somehow 
could  not  find  any  on  hand  to  help  him  at  the 
moment.  After  a  long  look  he  turned  away 
from  the  laundryman,  and  addressed  the  com- 
munity at  large. 

His  resentment  toward  society  found  voice: 
"  They're  always  blaming  radicals  for  wearing 
dirty  collars,"  said  he  cuttingly.  "Now  you 
see,"  he  flung  out  his  arm  and  faced  the  com- 
pany with  disillusioned  eyes,  "  what  happens 
when  vou  do  have  them  washed !  " 

Bettina  realized  that  he  was  right.  Even  she 
could  see  the  logic  of  what  he  said.  It  was 
plain  that  there  was  something  wrong  some- 
where. She  was  not  able  to  right  it,  but  she 
had  no  doubt  the  Revolution  would.  For, 
though  her  faith  waxed  and  waned,  she  was  yet 
a  believer. 

The  laundryman  moved  impatiently.     He 

was  an  unusually  large  laundryman,  to  Betty's 

affrighted  eyes,  and  she  clutched  Paula's  sleeve 

in  apprehension. 

177 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Temp  anticipated  his  visitor's  forward  move- 
ment.   "  Call  in  again,  will  you?  "  he  said. 

"  Can't  do  it,"  said  the  laundryman. 

"  I'm  busy." 

"  Can't  help  it.  Come  through.  Orders 
from  the  boss." 

Then  the  laundryman's  eyes  fell  to  his  own 
person,  and  for  the  first  time  he  realized  the 
results  of  his  stumbling  through  the  darkened 
hall. 

The  eyes  of  the  poets  followed  his.  There 
were  smudges  of  colored  paint  upon  his  trou- 
sers. The  black  table,  too,  had  not  shirked  its 
duty. 

The  laundryman's  countenance  became  red, 
and  his  eyes  flashed  rage. 

"  If  you  don't  pay  up,  young  fellow,  you'll 
be  made  to!  "  he  said  darkly,  and  he  turned  and 
tramped  with  dignity,  tempered  with  care, 
through  the  hallway. 

Temp  shut  the  door  and  locked  it,  with  the 
satisfaction  of  one  crushing  a  too-loudly  buzz- 
ing mosquito. 

"  All  right,"  he  said,  "  go  on.  Who's  going 
to  read  next?    You,  Don? " 

178 


THE  LAUNDBYMAN 


Betty  knew  before  he  began  to  read  that  he 
was  not  a  good  poet.  He  was  much  too  fat. 
But  he  was  quite  as  earnest  as  the  thin  ones. 

And  his  poems  were  quite  as  bad. 

Loud  and  heavy  shoes  were  coming  along 
the  corridor,  clumping  like  the  gods  of  the 
Mountain  in  the  last  act. 

"  The  laundryman!  "  Temp  breathed. 

There  was  a  hammering  at  the  door,  a  hand 
outside  turned  and  pulled  at  the  knob,  and  then 
the  balked  hammering  became  a  fusillade. 

"Oh,  open  it!"  Temp  gave  in  wearily. 
"  We  might  as  well !  He'll  wake  the  neighbor- 
hood." 

Bettina  opened  the  door. 

But  it  was  not  the  face  of  the  laundryman 
that  confronted  her.    She  looked  her  inquiry. 

"  Gasman !  "  called  out  the  newcomer,  with  a 
menacing  look. 


179 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PARNASSUS  BESIEGED 

"  Dear  me!  "  said  Bettina. 

The  besieger  looked  past  her  and  over  the 
guest's  heads  at  Temp. 

"  Bill's  been  running  too  long,"  he  an- 
nounced briefly.    "  Came  to  turn  off  the  gas." 

"  Oh,  go  ahead!  Turn  it  off! "  said  Temp 
bitterly. 

And  with  the  eyes  of  the  company  upon  him, 
the  gasman  performed  his  ceremony. 

He  had  managed  to  avoid  the  furniture,  by 
good  luck  alone,  as  he  came  in;  but  his  return 
trip  was  not  so  fortunate,  Betty  noted  with  re- 
newed satisfaction. 

This  time  Temp  forebore  to  comment,  and 
with  dignity  the  meeting  went  on,  for  a  few 
peaceful  seconds,  until  again  the  noise  of  ap- 
proach could  not  be  ignored. 

"  What  is  it  this  time! "  exclaimed  the  host 
in  despair. 

180 


PARNASSUS  BESIEGED 

He  was  soon  to  know, 

A  small,  dapper,  businesslike  man  was  ad- 
mitted who  handed  him  a  slip.  It  was  all  too 
clearly  another  bill. 

"  Electric  light,"  he  said,  and  waited. 

Another  painful  scene  ensued.  The  small 
dapper  man  had  a  bulldog  jaw,  after  all,  and 
the  controversy  promised  to  be  exciting. 

Finally  he  was  repulsed  and  went  off  mut- 
tering. 

"  It  was  foolish,  I  suppose,  to  try  to  have  a 
meeting  on  the  first  of  the  month,' '  remarked 
Temp  to  Bettina.  "  But  I  never  can  remem- 
ber dates.  If  I'd  thought  of  it,  I'd  have  spent 
to-day  and  to-morrow  at  the  Public  Library. 
We're  always  being  urged  by  posters  and  leaf- 
lets to  use  it." 

It  was  becoming  more  and  more  impossible 
to  continue  the  meeting.  For  poetry,  espe- 
cially the  newer  sort,  to  be  read,  requires  an  at- 
mosphere, a  hush,  a  feeling  of  the  presence  of 
Beauty,  and  who  could  maintain  that  atmos- 
phere in  the  face  of  gasmen? 

Not  even  Temp.  There  were  murmurs  from 
one  and  another  of  the  guests. 

181 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  I  think  we'd  better  go." 

"  No,  no,"  objected  their  host  hastily. 

And  Paula,  settling  herself  more  comfort- 
ably beside  Bettina,  remarked: 

"  Go?  Why,  I  wouldn't  miss  this  for 
worlds!  Somehow  I  have  a  feeling  that  all  is 
not  yet  over.  I  feel  as  if  something  more  were 
about  to  happen." 

As  if  her  prophecy  brought  on  the  waiting 
doom,  an  angry  feminine  voice  sounded  below, 
and  a  flouncing  person  came  determinedly  up 
the  steps,  only  to  run  into  first  one  and 
then  another  of  the  exiled  articles  of  furni- 
ture. 

The  contacts  did  not  improve  her  temper,  it 
was  apparent. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina  again.  u  She  can't 
be  a  bill  collector !  " 

"  Now,  who  on  earth,"  wondered  Temp. 

The  woman  flung  open  the  door,  and  en- 
tered, as  if  on  a  crusade. 

"  It's  Clarice,"  explained  Temp. 

"  Dear  me!"  murmured  Betty. 

Paula  sat  up  straight,  suddenly  alert. 
"  Scandal!     A  cast  off  sweetheart!" 

182 


PARNASSUS  BESIEGED 


"  Clarice,  the  cleaning  woman,"  explained 
Temp  in  a  whisper. 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  sweeping  lady."  Betty,  re- 
lieved but  apprehensive,  now  remembered  hav- 
ing seen  her  entering  or  leaving  several  times. 
"  But  surely,  she  didn't  come  to  sweep  to- 
day?" 

Clarice,  the  cleaning  lady,  had  been  stand- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  room  regarding  them 
stormily.  Now  her  wrath  surged  forth  in  tor- 
rents of  words.  But  Clarice,  who  had  been  so 
christened  by  Temp,  and  whose  name  was  not 
Clarice  at  all,  but  only  Maria,  was  Italian,  and, 
though  on  calm  days  she  knew  a  few  words  of 
English,  in  anger  she  forgot  them  all,  and  the 
passionate,  lyrical  volley  of  words  she  poured 
forth  was,  perhaps  fortunately,  quite  beyond 
the  understanding  of  her  auditors. 

One  gathered,  however,  that  she  wanted 
her  "  mon."  With  a  few  interspersed  English 
words,  one  finally  gathered  further,  that  she 
had  worked  for  many  weeks  without  being 
paid,  and  that  she  proposed  to  have  her  due 
to-day. 

"  But  this  isn't  because  it's  the  first  of  the 

183 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


month,"  marveled  Bettina,  as  Temp  was  turn- 
ing his  pockets  inside  out  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
convince  Clarice  that  nothing  could  be  done. 
"  She  doesn't  know  when  it's  the  first,  I  be- 
lieve.   How  did  she  happen  to  come  to-day? " 

Then  light  broke  in  upon  Temp.  He  saw 
it  all. 

"  They've  told  each  other! "  he  cried.  "  It's 
that  laundryman.  He's  gone  and  stirred  up 
all  the  rest!" 

It  was,  alas,  the  truth. 


184 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

CLARICE  THE  CLEANING  LADY 

That  was  only  the  beginning.  From  that 
moment,  creditors  rained  upon  the  poets'  party 
in  the  studio,  and  while  giving  most  of  their 
threats  to  the  host,  turned  to  the  guests  also 
and  scattered  maledictions  alike  on  the  just 
and  the  unjust.  Partly  because  of  the  unpaid 
bills  and  partly  because  of  the  paint. 

Before  Clarice,  the  cleaning  lady,  had  done 
telling  her  tale  of  woe,  she  was  interrupted  by 
a  restaurant  keeper  from  Sixth  Avenue  who 
was  a  friend  of  the  laundryman.  Then  came 
Temp's  tailor,  a  swarthy  man  of  an  unforgiv- 
ing disposition,  and  hard  upon  their  heels,  the 
corner  grocer. 

The  electric  light  man  arrived  by  accident. 
He  had  had  no  communication  with  the  laun- 
dryman ;  it  was  simply  his  day  to  collect. 

Which  he  was  not  able  to  do. 

After  that,  Bettina  could  really  not  keep 

185 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


track  of  who  everyone  was.  There  was  a  car- 
penter from  a  near-by  street,  who  had  put  up 
Temp's  bookshelves. 

In  lieu  of  his  pay  he  took  the  bookshelves 
with  him,  wrenching  them  off  the  wall  and 
rudely  tipping  whatever  happened  to  be  upon 
them  down  on  the  heads  of  guests,  with  no 
discrimination  whatever.  The  shower  of 
books,  crockery,  and  pencils  added  to  the  con- 
fusion of  coal,  wraps  and  poets. 

The  din  was  growing.  The  clamoring  cred- 
itors outdid  each  other.  Being  mostly  of  Latin 
races,  they  did  not  hide  their  emotions. 

"Oh  dear!"  cried  Betty,  almost  in  tears, 
clutching  at  Paula,  as  being  quieter  and  calmer 
than  most  of  the  poets  and  much  more  calm 
than  any  of  the  creditors. 

"  There,  there!  "    Paula  patted  her  hand. 

"  This  is  what  comes,"  gasped  Betty,  tear- 
fully, "  of  being  a  genius ! " 

"  This  is  what  comes,"  answered  Paula  se- 
verely, "  of  being  an  idiot !  " 

Their  eyes  turned  to  the  besieged  Temp. 

"  No,"   returned   Betty,   "  only   of   loving 

Beauty." 

186 


THE  CLEANING  LADY 

"  You  see,"  explained  Paula,  sanely,  "  you 
can't  love  Beauty  as  a  regular  job.  You  must 
only  do  it  in  your  off  moments,  if  you  want  to 
keep  out  of  trouble." 

"  The  world,"  answered  Betty  loyally,  rais- 
ing her  voice  to  reach  Paula's  ear  above  the 
din,  "  owes  the  poet  a  living!  " 

"  But  you  don't,"  returned  Paula  bluntly, 
"  and  it's  your  money  he's  been  living  off  the 
past  month." 

The  red  flared  into  Betty's  cheeks.  Her 
eyes  glared  rage. 

"  How  can  you?  Oh,  how  can  you? "  she 
cried. 

"  It's  for  your  own  good,  Bettina.  I  didn't 
mean  to  speak,  but  now  I  have,  I'm  not  sorry. 
Everybody  helps  Temp.  Everyone  admires 
his  talent,  and  succumbs  to  his  charm.  He's 
lovably  worthless,  that's  what  he  is,  and  you 
know  it.  Oh,  I  admit  he's  charming!  I  know 
he  adores  you,  and  you  him!  But,  don't  you 
see,  this  is  his  nature!  He'll  always  be  a 
charming,  irresponsible  child.    Always ! " 

"  He  is  a  genius,"  flared  Betty,  haughtily 
and  sincerely.     "  And,"  remembering  some- 

187 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


thing  she  had  heard,  and  turning  to  Paula  with 
finality,  "  you  have  no  standards  by  which  to 
judge  him." 

She  went  and  stood  by  Temp. 

Paula,  not  to  be  outdone,  went  too,  and 
stood  next  Betty. 

The  guests  were  sitting  or  standing  about  in 
various  stages  of  apprehension  or  enjoyment. 

The  Muse  was  forgotten  for  the  moment. 
Art  had  given  place  to  Life. 

As  the  laundryman  reached  more  of  his  ac- 
quaintances, and  warned  them  that  if  they 
wanted  to  get  any  money  out  of  Temp,  they 
had  better  go  to  him  at  once,  the  creditors' 
ranks  were  augmented. 

And  as  all  the  creditors  were  talking  at  once, 
and  some  of  the  poets,  the  din  was  incredible. 

"  Well,"  Paula  turned  philosophically  to 
Betty,  "  it  can't  get  any  worse,  at  any  rate." 

"  No,"  answered  Betty. 

At  that  moment  a  louder  commotion  arose 
in  the  hall. 


188 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  LANDLORD  AND  THE  CITADEL  OF  ART 

When  the  newcomer  appeared  in  the  hall- 
way, beyond  the  open  door,  even  Temp  felt 
that  this  was  the  climax,  that  the  end  had  been 
reached. 

For  the  stern  eye  and  rock-bound  chin  be- 
longed to  none  other  than  his  landlord. 

The  landlord  was  of  foreign  origin;  also,  it 
was  to  be  feared,  descended  from  the  emotion- 
ally Latin.  He  had  a  suspicious  nature,  and 
even  Temp's  innocent,  boyish  face  could  not 
convince  him  now. 

For  the  landlord  had  come  in  haste,  and  all 

the  furniture,  perhaps  recognizing  him,  and 

settling  old  scores,  had  left  its  mark  upon  him. 

And  it  happened  that  he  had  that  morning 

donned  a  new  and  expensive  suit  of  clothes,  of 

a  light  gray,  against  which  the  splotches  of 

black,    green,    and    purple    shone    forth    in 

triumph. 

189 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


The  landlord  glared  at  his  tenant. 

The  trapped  tenant  glared  back.  As  his 
eye  took  in  the  full  effect,  even  Temp,  tried 
as  he  was,  could  not  restrain  his  mirth.  He 
smiled. 

That  smile  was  his  undoing. 

The  decorated  landlord  shot  out  an  arm  in 
denunciation.    His  speech  was  brief: 

"  I  want  my  money !  " 

Temp  began  soothingly  to  explain. 

The  arm  waved  impatiently. 

"  Yes,  yes.  You  said  all  that.  Last  month. 
The  month  before." 

There  was  a  confirmatorv  murmur  from  the 
other  creditors,  who  had  fallen  back,  and  by 
common  consent  given  the  chief  part  to  the 
landlord,  they  themselves  falling  into  line  as 
a  Greek  chorus. 

"  But "  began  Temp  winningly. 

"  I'm  through  with  talking,"  interrupted  his 
opponent.  "It  ain't  your  talk  I  want;  it's 
your  money." 

"  Look  here,  I  can't  pay  you  to-day,  but  if 
you'll  wait  until  — 


>? 


"  I  know  all  that.    I  heard  it  before.    You 

190 


THE  LANDLORD 


pay  me  now,  now,  you  hear?  I  stay  right 
where  I  am  till  you  do !  " 

Temp  looked  at  him  guilelessly. 

"  But  you'll  have  to  go  out  for  your  meals," 
he  suggested. 

"  I  go  out  to  eat  and  sleep,  and  I  come  back, 
and  I  stay  here  in  front  of  your  door,"  he  indi- 
cated the  hallway  like  a  battleground,  "  until  I 
get  all  you  owe  me." 

"  Hard  on  your  business,"  hazarded  an 
amused  poet  from  the  background.  "  How'll 
it  get  on  without  you?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  about  my  business," 
snarled  the  injured  one,  glaring  into  the  shad- 
ows. "  I  been  fooled  too  often  already  by  this 
young  man.     He  don't  get  by  me  this  time." 

"  How  on  earth,"  hazarded  Temp  worriedly 
to  the  nearest  poet,  "  am  I  to  keep  in  a  proper 
writing  mood,  with  that  old  grouch  waiting 
there  every  day?     How'll  I  concentrate? ' 

"That's  so, "  answered  the  nearest  one,  sym- 
pathetic and  worried.  "  Sure  death  to  any- 
one's inspiration.  You've  got  to  scare  him  off 
someway." 

"  Scare  him? " 

191 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Or  bluff  him,  I  should  say." 

"  Well,  well,"  came  the  menacing  growl 
again.  "  What  you  going  to  do  about  it?  I 
can't  wait  all  day  for  you." 

Petra  edged  over  toward  Nessa  and  whis- 
pered something.  Nessa  nodded,  and  they 
edged  toward  the  landlord.  By  this  time  he 
was  standing  fairly  inside  the  room.  The  two 
watched  him  warily. 

The  enemy's  eyes  were  on  Temp.  WitH  a 
dart  so  unexpected  that  he  could  not  lift  a 
hand  to  prevent  her,  Petra  was  upon  him.  She 
gave  one  feministic  push  and  he  was  out  in  the 
hall.  At  almost  the  same  instant  Nessa  shut 
the  door  with  a  slam  in  his  stupefied  face,  and 
shot  the  lock. 

The  besieged  were  triumphant  for  the  mo- 
ment, but  only  for  a  moment.  They  had,  as  it 
were,  wounded  an  elephant,  and  now  were  to 
feel  the  rush  of  his  charge. 

The  landlord  rallied  his  allies  about  him,  and 
shoulders  and,  it  is  feared,  convenient  furni- 
ture now  began  to  be  hurled  against  the  barri- 
caded door.  It  was  clear  that  in  another  mo- 
ment the  door  would  give  way. 

192 


THE  LANDLORD 


Temp  gave  one  despairing  look  toward  the 
window.  There  was  a  perfectly  feasible  exit 
in  that  direction,  for  the  fire-escape  was  un- 
guarded. Temp  wavered  toward  it  for  an  in- 
stant, but  he  thought  of  his  dignity  as  an  artist. 
It  would  never  do. 

Also  Temp  had  always  been  one  to  choose 
the  easiest  way. 

There  was  a  rending  crash. 

With  one  convulsive  movement  Temp 
darted  under  the  table.  Madly  shoving  aside 
the  folds  of  the  heavy  table-cloth  which  hung  to 
the  floor,  he  crawled  under  into  its  dusty  shel- 
ter. The  cloth  was  of  that  fearful  red  affected 
by  landladies,  and  its  lurid  pattern  did  not  be- 
come Temp's  poetic  profile  as  he  thrust  his 
head  out  again  for  final  instructions. 

"  Look  here,"  he  explained  heatedly,  "  when 
that  old  brute  breaks  in,  tell  him  I'm  out — 
gone — and  you  don't  know  when  I'll  be  back. 
Maybe  he'll  go  away  then,  and  let  us  get  on 
with  the  meeting." 

With  one  final  crash  the  door  gave  way,  and 
Temp's  head  hastily  disappeared,  just  as  the 
avenging  landlord,  with  a  roar,  burst  into  the 
room. 

193 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WAR  TO  THE  KNIFE 

In  through  the  demolished  door  the  avenger 
strode,  his  face  black  with  wrath,  his  fists 
clenched. 

"  Where  is  he? "  he  demanded,  peering 
about,  his  rage  visibly  increasing.  "  Show  me 
where  he  is! " 

Obviously  Bettina  had  been  born  for  this 
moment,  and  she  accepted  its  responsibility 
with  courage  in  her  chin  and  eyes,  in  fact, 
everywhere  but  her  knees. 

"  He's  gone,"  she  said,  her  gaze  shifting 
more  from  instinct  than  cleverness  toward  the 
open  window. 

The  invader  followed  Her  eyes,  and  under- 
stood. His  anger  leaped  like  a  kitchen  fire 
under  kerosene. 

"  Good,"  said  he  gutturally.  "  Then  some- 
one else  pays  me."     He  looked  about  at  the 

194 


WAR  TO  THE  KNIFE 


guests  like  an  auctioneer,  but  there  were  no 
bids. 

Bettina  happened  to  be  nearest. 

His  bluster  changed  to  a  whine. 

"  What  kind  of  a  way  is  this? "  he  wailed. 
"  What  kind  of  a  way,  I  ask  you?  I  come  and 
I  come  for  the  rent,  and  he  say  '  To-morrow.' 
And  when  I  come  to-morrow,  he  say,  *  On 
Monday  sure.'  And  on  Monday  he  say 
Wednesday,  and  Wednesday  I  wait  all  day 
and  nobody  in!    What  kind  of  a  way? " 

"  But  you  must  give  him  time  to  earn 
the  money,"  remonstrated  Bettina  bravely. 
"  How  can  he  work  and  pay  you  when  you're 
always  bothering  him?  "  She  was  thinking  of 
the  book  Temp  had  been  writing,  off  and  on,  as 
the  mood  came,  for  the  past  few  years.  It  was 
an  epic,  based  upon  the  story  of  Harold,  the 
last  of  the  Saxon  Kings,  and  would,  she  felt 
certain,  and  so  did  Temp,  make  his  fortune,  be- 
sides, of  course,  being  a  distinct  addition  to 
literature. 

But  the  landlord  knew  nothing  of  Harold 

the  Saxon. 

"  What  is  he,  the  swindler? "  he  went  on. 

195 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


His  righteous  grievance  blotted  out  everything 
else  in  the  world.  "  But  I  make  him  pay ! 
You  shall  see !  If  he  shall  make  a  fool  of  me 
always  you  shall  see ! "  Then  he  remembered 
bitterly  the  apex  of  his  woes.  His  voice  went 
into  a  shriek. 

"  The  last  time  I  come,"  he  shrieked  angrily, 
"  he  shut  the  door  in  my  face.  He  say  *  Go 
away.  I  can't  see  you.  I  reading  a 
book!'" 

"  Writing  a  book,  writing  a  book,"  corrected 
Bettina. 

"  Writing  a  book.  What  difference?  "  said 
the  landlord  wearily. 

At  that  instant  the  table-cloth  moved.  The 
landlord  searched  the  faces  before  him  with 
suspicion.  All  the  instincts  of  landlords  had 
been  aroused  in  his  brain.  He  was  being  out- 
witted. But  these  people  should  see.  Per- 
haps he  had  not  meant  it  before,  but  now  he 
would  make  good  his  threat  to  stay  in  that  hall 
until  he  was  paid.  He  would  stay  there  the 
rest  of  that  day,  and  they  would  see.  But  first 
he  must  see  his  helper. 

"All  right,"  he  growled  vindictively.    "  You 

196 


WAR  TO  THE  KNIFE 


see.  I  come  back  in  five  minutes  and  I  stay- 
here  by  your  door  till  I  get  my  money." 

With  this  ultimatum,  and  with  a  lingering 
look  at  his  victims  as  if  loath  to  leave  them,  the 
landlord  turned  and  made  his  way  out,  sup- 
posedly to  arrange  his  business  affairs  for  a 
long  absence. 

The  other  besiegers  trailed  down  the  stairs 
with  the  landlord,  and  left  the  hall  free. 

Bettina,  foreseeing  that  she  would  face  him 
again,  if  anyone  did,  gasped  and  clutched  at 
Paula. 

"The  horrid  thing!"  exclaimed  Petra, 
breathless  with  enjoyment  of  the  adventure 
and  anger  at  the  landlord. 

"  Isn't  he?  "  cried  Nessa,  similarly  breath- 
less. 

"  Let's  put  an  armchair  in  the  hall  for  him, 
the  most  comfortable  one  in  the  studio!  He'll 
be  furious ! " 

"And  put  a  magazine  in  it  for  him  to  read," 

advocated    Petra    enthusiastically.      Willing 

hands  dragged  the  heaviest  armchair  out  in  the 

corridor,  and  someone  laid  a  copy  of  the  At' 

lantic  Monthly  enticingly  within  it. 

197 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  When  he  sees  it  he'll  simply  give  one 
shriek !  "  hazarded  Petra  interestedly. 

"Dear  me!"  said  Bettina,  "they  carry 
knives,  don't  they?  Or  something?  If  only 
he  weren't  quite  so  excitable.  I  wish  I  knew 
what  he's  going  to  do!  " 

"  You  will,  in  a  minute,"  answered  Petra 
hopefully. 


198 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  LANDLORD  DISCOVERS  THE  ARMCHAIR 

In  those  moments  of  waiting,  Bettina  did 
not  relive  her  past  life  and  regret  her  faults, 
she  relived  the  past  month  and  regretted 
Temp's. 

This  last  humiliation  was  but  the  logical  out- 
come of  a  month  of  little  worries  about  money 
and  other  annoying  trifles.  She  had  excused 
things,  overlooked  things,  forgotten  things,  but 
that  was  over  now.  This  last  was  too  much. 
She  had  to  come  to  the  end  of  that  ever-widen- 
ing vein  of  self-sacrifice  within  her.  It  was 
only  a  pocket  after  all. 

The  others  were  chatting  around  her ;  Temp, 

under  the  table,  stuck  out  his  head  like  a  turtle 

and  reconnoitered  cautiously;  but  Bettina  saw 

and  heard  nothing.     She  was  buried  in  her 

own  bitter  thoughts.     She  could  not  live  like 

this,  she  reflected.     Temp  was  as  irresponsible 

199 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


as  a  child.  All  his  friends  were  dreamy  and 
irresponsible.  One  needed  money  to  live  de- 
cently and  in  comfort,  and  to  not  one  of  this 
heaven-kissing  crew  did  it  seem  to  occur  even 
to  try  to  get  a  regular  job.  And  Temp  was 
willing  to  go  to  her,  a  girl,  for  money !  He  did 
not  even  see  that  it  was  degrading.  Oh,  why 
had  she  cast  in  her  lot  with  such  people?  Here 
she  was,  entangled  in  the  charm  of  them  as  a 
fly  in  the  sticky  stuff  on  fly-paper!  And  no 
one  to  pry  her  off!  Tears  of  humiliation  grew 
in  her  eyes.  Two  driveled  like  snowballs  and 
rolled  down  her  cheeks.  What  sort  of  hyp- 
notic spell  had  she  been  under  all  this  time, 
anyway?  How  could  she  have  been  so  gul- 
lible? It  was  all  her  own  fault;  and  now  how 
should  she  ever  get  out  of  it  all  again!  She 
had  chosen  this,  and  here  she  was,  in  the  thick 
of  it.  Any  minute  now  the  landlord  would  be 
back. 

And  what  would  Temp  ever  do  without  her? 
It  was  her  duty  to  Art  to  guard  his  helpless- 
ness from  landlords. 

But  even  the  glow  of  self-sacrifice  could  not 

keep  her  from  mourning  the  things  she  could 

200 


THE  ARMCHAIR 


never  have  again.  Those  things  which  had 
seemed  to  her  before  the  fatal  ball  to  be  so 
monotonous,  so  dull,  so  unbearably  dreary,  be- 
came, now  that  they  were  removed  from  her, 
unspeakably  desirable  and  exciting. 

Exciting !  How  could  she  ever  have  thought 
that  all  this  mess  of  plain  speaking  and  high 
thinking  would  be  exciting?  It  was  taxis,  and 
dinner  gowns,  and  tea  at  Mary  Elizabeth's 
that  were  the  really  exciting  things!  How 
wonderful  it  would  be  to  go  to  tea  at  Mary 
Elizabeth's  now!  But  she  couldn't.  Never 
again.  How  impossible  Temp  would  be  there, 
or  in  any  Fifth  Avenue  place,  with  his  crum- 
pled corduroys  and  crumpled  hair !  How  hor- 
rible it  would  be  to  be  stared  at  as  a  freak  or  a 
companion  to  a  freak!  How  pleasant  it  would 
be  to  go  there  with  a  dull,  inconspicuous, 
proper  young  man !  But  she  had  dwelt  in  that 
Eden  and  had  deliberately  walked  out  of  it 
and  closed  the  gate.  Now  she  was  barred  out 
forever  from  all  these  things. 

The  girl  who  marries  a  free  verse  poet  or 

bobs  her  hair  has  a  moment  of  exaltation  at 

the  time,  but  sooner  or  later,  the  realization  will 

201 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


come  to  her  that  she  is  shut  out  forever  from 
Fifth  Avenue  and  the  Drive,  and  is  doomed  to 
spend  her  life  south  of  Fourteenth.  That  bit- 
ter moment  had  come  to  Bettina. 

But  the  dignity  of  tragedy  was  denied  her, 
for  every  instant  she  expected  to  hear  an  out- 
cry of  oaths  from  the  landlord  when  he  came 
back  and  discovered  the  armchair.  That  was 
the  Avay  among  the  rich  in  spirit,  but  poor  in 
pocketbook,  defenders  of  the  citadel  of  Art — 
life  here  was  not  possible  to  be  lived  with 
dignity,  one's  tragedies  were  never  unadul- 
terated with  sordidness.  If  one  loved  poetry 
enough  to  put  up  with  defective  plumbing,  it 
was  all  right.  But  Bettina  did  not.  She 
knew  at  last,  but  had  she,  alas,  learned  it  too 
late,  that  she  irreconcilably  did  not. 

From  the  outer  world,  from  which  her 
thoughts  had  cut  her  off,  came  a  hand  laid 
lightly  on  her  arm  and  Paula's  voice  sounded, 
cheerfully  protective  in  her  ear: 

"  It'll  be  over   soon.      Don't   mind.      Of 

course  it's  a  shock,  but  when  a  chick,  after 

being  warm  and  comfortable  in  its  shell,  breaks 

out  into  the  amazing  world  don't  you  suppose 

202 


THE  ARMCHAIR 


it's  shocked  too?  You're  only  running  up 
against  reality,  as  our  magazine-writing  friends 
would  say.  Don't  worry.  Grief's  awfully  be- 
coming. Good  for  the  eyes.  Makes  'em  big 
and  dark  and  twice  as  attractive." 

"  Paula,  how  can  you? " 

"  Oh,  easily.  Though  you'll  not  have  no- 
ticed them,  there  are  still  splinters  of  shell 
clinging  about  me,  too,  my  dear." 

"  No,"  said  Bettina,  spiritually  taking  a 
loyal  step  backward.  "  I  was  just  unnerved 
for  a  moment.  Matters  aren't  really  as  bad 
as  I  felt.  How  silly  of  me!  The  thing  is  to 
think  of  how  to  manage  that  awful  landlord. 
And  this  waiting  is  getting  on  my  nerves. 
What  do  you  suppose  is  keeping  him  so  long? 
I  want  to  get  that  over  with  anyway.  If  he'd 
only  come ! " 

And  as  if  in  answer  to  her  invocation,  at  that 
instant  he  did. 

The  chatting  poets  heard  his  approach  and 
were  still.  The  rest  of  the  invaders  stood 
grouped  about  the  entrance  down-stairs,  await- 
ing developments,  it  seemed.    The  arch  enemy 

came  on  alone,  high  dignity  and  resolve  in  his 

203 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


firm  steps.  Petra,  quite  unnecessarily,  put  her 
ear  to  the  keyhole.  Temp's  head,  which  had 
been  experimentally  thrust  out  from  behind 
the  painfully  red  table-cloth,  disappeared 
hastily. 

The  steps  stopped.  There  was  a  pause. 
The  landlord  had  seen  the  chair ;  its  significance 
was  sinking  in.  He  was  realizing  how  impu- 
dently he  had  been  defied. 

Bettina  waited,  her  hands  clasped,  her  lips 
parted,  for  his  outburst.     It  did  not  come. 

His  discovery  had  been  followed  by  an 
ominous  silence.  It  continued,  it  grew.  Then, 
still  without  a  word,  he  turned  and  walked 
back  down  the  hall. 

"There!"  cried  Paula  brightly,  breaking 
the  silence  within  the  room.  "  You  see!  We 
needn't  have  minded.     He's  gone !  " 

"  Yes,"  assented  Bettina,  dazed. 

"And  he  didn't  say  a  thing! " 

"  No,"  answered  Betty.    "And  that's  what's 

worrying  me.     It's  too  good  to  be  true.     It 

isn't  natural.     That  man  is  up  to  something. 

I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but,"  her  hard-gained 

new  knowledge  of  life  asserted  itself,  "  when  a 

204 


THE  ARMCHAIR 


man  is  too  angry  to  swear,  that's  the  time  to 
be  prepared.  For  he's  apt  to  do  any- 
thing! " 


205 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

BETTINA  REVERTS  TO  TYPE 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Betty,"  sighed  Petra  dis- 
appointedly.    "  I  suppose  we  may  as  well  go." 

There  was  a  general  wrangling  of  tarns  and 
coats.  One  saw  that  the  assembly  felt  it  had 
been  cheated  of  a  dramatic  climax.  It  was 
like  an  audience  leaving  the  theatre  after  a 
play  by  Giovanitti,  the  first  act  of  which  had 
contained  so  many  murders  that  there  was  no 
one  left  to  kill  in  the  third. 

Betty  herself  was  relieved  but  apprehensive, 
like  the  mother  whose  sons  came  home  safely 
from  the  war;  but  brought  unexploded  shells 
to  use  as  parlor  ornaments. 

But  Temp  felt  that  all  was  well.  In  the  re- 
action, he  laughed  and  jested  and  searched  for 
missing  hats  with  more  than  his  usual  gay  good 
fellowship.  Looking  at  him  now,  one  would 
have  scorned  to  think  of  table-cloths  in  connec- 
tion with  that  profile. 

206 


REVERTS  TO  TYPE 


But  just  before  the  first  guest  and  her  lan- 
guid escort  were  out  of  the  door,  a  firm,  deter- 
mined trampling,  with  nothing  at  all  Latin 
about  it,  came  in  its  turn  up  the  stairs.  Peer- 
ing out  palpitatingly,  Betty  discovered  that  it 
was  a  blue  trampling,  and  that  it  had  a 
star. 

Over  her  shoulder,  "  Fishes'  heaven!"  ejacu- 
lated Don,  who  rather  went  in  for  Rupert 
Brooke,  "  It's  a  policeman!  " 

It  was.  And  not  the  jovial  kind.  It  was  a 
grim  one. 

"What — what  does  he  want?"  quavered 
Betty,  who  knew  very  well,  but  who  had  been 
brought  up  to  see  the  sunny  side  of  things. 

"  Me! "  cried  Temp,  with  a  flash  of  insight 
and  a  pictorial  groan — a  sort  of  guttural  sigh 
illustrated  by  a  bitter  wave  of  the  hand. 

"  My  word,"  breathed  the  best-dressed  poet, 
delightedly.     "  My  word !  " 

Proudly  the  landlord  walked  beside  the  law 
that  by  a  wave  of  his  hand — a  number  of 
waves,  to  be  exact — he  had  made  visible. 

"Now,  what's  all  this?"  demanded  the  po- 
liceman sternly,  as  he  and  his  cicerone  reached 

207 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


them.  "  You've  got  a  crowd  down  on  the 
sidewalk  at  your  door.  What  do  you  mean  by 
it?  "     He  glared  impartially. 

He  was  guided  to  Temp  by  the  landlord's 
accusing  finger. 

"  What's  all  this  I  hear  about  you,  young 
man?  "  His  vocabulary  lacked  variety,  but  he 
seized  Temp's  shoulder  in  a  grip  that  supplied 
the  appeal  his  speech  lacked. 

The  landlord,  frenzied  by  the  presence  of  his 
foe,  shouted  and  danced  his  accusations  over 
again  from  the  beginning. 

The  creditors,  as  though  they  had  been  wait- 
ing in  the  wings  for  their  cue,  had  now  become 
a  murmuring  mass  in  the  background  again. 
They  were  coming  cautiously  a  little  farther 
up  the  steps. 

"  Well,  well,"  impatiently  prodded  the  po- 
liceman, "  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  your- 
self, young  fellow? " 

The  guardian  of  the  non-poets  of  the  world 

looked  at  Temp  keenly  and  appraisingly.     He 

knew  his  type  well  enough  to  "  size  him  up." 

He  wasn't  the  kind  whom  debts  would  keep 

from  a  good  night's  sleep.     He  would  be  just 

208 


REVERTS  TO  TYPE 


as  apt  as  not  to  leave  town  any  day,  and  sin- 
cerely forget  about  them. 

It  seemed  to  Bettina  that  she  had  never  seen 
such  a  large  policeman  before.  It  really  wasn't 
fair  of  the  mayor  to  have  them  quite  so  big. 
It  was  too  much  like  loading  the  dice.  There 
was  no  human  kindness  in  him,  that  was  cer- 
tain. 

Bettina  gave  a  faint  moan  and  hid  her  face 
in  her  hands.  Paula  led  her  to  the  back  of  the 
room,  away  from  the  scene  of  action,  and  pat- 
ted her  shoulder  as  indefatigably  and  with  as 
correct  an  interpolation  of  "  There,  there,"  as 
any  gray-haired  mother  in  a  thirty  years  ago 
melodrama. 

Betty  sobbed  inconsolably  and  saw  nothing 
for  some  seconds.     The  wrangling  went  on. 

Paula  kept  a  firm  hand  on  Bettina' s  fluffy 
head  so  that  she  might  not  lift  it  suddenly  and, 
seeing  Temp's  mournful  face,  go  again  to  his 
rescue. 

All  might  even  yet  have  been  well  for  Temp, 

had  not  the  poets  in  the  back  of  the  room  had 

that  lively  curiosity  about  life  which  is  essential 

to  the  artist. 

209 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


They  pushed.  And  as  they  pushed,  the 
helpless  ones  directly  in  front  of  them  pushed, 
and  the  movement  of  the  mass  was  communi- 
cated to  each  particle.  So  it  was  that  the 
front  row,  shoved  by  those  behind,  was  really 
not  accountable  for  its  staggerings. 

At  this  juncture  Temp,  in  making  a  mild 
defense,  was  seized  with  his  fatal  histrionic 
need  for  gesture,  and  thrust  out  his  arm  in  a 
graceful  movement  to  emphasize  what  he  was 
saying. 

At  this  moment  the  nearest  poet  stumbled 
against  Temp,  and  sent  the  extended  and  as- 
tonished arm  squarely  into  the  face  of  the  too- 
near  landlord. 

Instantly  there  was  an  outcry  from  the  wait- 
ing ones  below,  and  the  policeman,  his  softened 
moment  passing,  seized  the  bewildered  Temp. 

"  That'll  be  enough  of  that,  young  man," 
he  commented  grimly.  Temp's  explanations 
were  lost  in  the  confusion. 

A    prolonged    wail    broke    from    Betty. 

"  They're  taking  him  to  jail,  they're  taking 

him  to  jail!"  she  cried  in  despair,  and  forced 

her  way  through  the  crowd  to  stand  beside  him. 

210 


REVERTS  TO  TYPE 


The  landlord  was  grossly  triumphant,  satis- 
fied. Now  this  upstart  would  see  what  the  law 
would  do  to  people  that  acted  so. 

"  Don't  let  them  take  him! "  appealed  Bet- 
tina  brokenly. 

From  below  came  the  sound  of  voices,  femi- 
nine and  unmistakably  derived  from  above 
Fourteenth  Street.  The  creditors  parted,  and 
up-stairs  and  past  the  policeman  came  two 
sprightly,  well-groomed  shimmers. 

"Ruth!  "cried  Betty. 

"  Nadine!  "  she  shrilled  again. 

"  Month's  up,"  vouchsafed  Nadine  briefly. 
"  Here  we  are." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Betty  hysterically,  putting  her 
head  on  Nadine's  shoulder  and  weeping,  this 
time  voluptuously,  luxuriantly,  in  an  access  of 
peace  and  well-being.  She  knew  that  all  was 
now  well,  Temp  was  saved. 

"  Have  you  got  some  money  with  you? "  she 
asked,  not  dreaming  of  a  disappointment.  Of 
course  they  had,  and  that  would  make  every- 
thing right.     "  How  much  have  you?  " 

"  Not  a  cent,"  answered  Nadine  cheerfully, 

turning  her  purse  inside  out. 

211 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"You,  Ruth?"  asked  Betty,  hope  still 
strong  in  her. 

"None,"  Ruth  shook  her  head.  "We've 
been  shopping,  and  only  kept  bus  fare." 

Betty  burst  into  a  louder  wail,  devoid  of  all 
belief  in  providence,  Allah,  fate  or  luck. 


212 


.    .  ..-* 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

BETTINA  RETURNS  TO  THE  FOLD 

The  stillness  which  had  fallen  on  the  com- 
pany with  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  was 
broken.  The  policeman  laid  his  hand  on 
Temp's  arm  firmly,  resolved  to  waste  no  more 
time. 

Then  Bettina  harked  back  to  her  happy 
past.  Once  and  for  all  she  knew  what  she  had 
given  up. 

"  Oh,  if  William  Clark  were  only  here !  "  she 
exclaimed,  out  of  the  longing  of  her  tortured 
heart. 

"  He  is,"  said  Nadine. 

Betty  started  violently.  She  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  a  sob. 

"  What  did  you  say?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Nadine,  still  not  realizing 

just  what  all  this  was  about,  "  yes,  he  came 

down  with  us." 

213 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"William!" 

"  He  said  he'd  wait  and  let  us  come  in  first/ ' 
explained  Ruth. 

"  How  like  William !  "  Betty  almost  smiled 
as  she  remembered  all  his  scrupulous  sym- 
pathy. She  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  After 
all,  that  was  what  she  craved.  She  wanted  to 
be  taken  care  of.  She  had  seen  enough  of  ad- 
venture, she  never  wanted  to  hear  of  romance 
again.  Bettina  had  reverted  to  type.  Just  a 
little  home  of  her  own,  and  a  husband  like  Wil- 
liam— that  was  all  she  asked  of  life. 

But  did  William  still  want  her?  She  shiv- 
ered. 

Temp  and  the  policeman  were  leaving, 
Temp  too  bewildered  still  to  even  think  of 
Bettina. 

"  If  he'd  only  come!  "  Bettina  clasped  her 
hands  in  supplication  to  the  god  of  coincidence. 

"  Here  he  is !  "  cried  Ruth. 

And  calmly,  fastidiously,  courteously,  in 
came  William. 

With  a  wild  bound  Betty  clasped  her  arms 

about  his  neck. 

"  Oh,  William!     I've  made  up  my  mind! 

214 


>> 


RETURNS  TO  THE  FOLD 

Then  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone,  "  How 
much  money  have  you?  " 

"Bettina,"  said  William  fondly.  Then, 
vaguely,  "  Money? " 

Betty,  with  the  help  of  the  landlord,  the 
policeman,  and  the  poets,  explained  the  situa- 
tion. 

With  one  arm  about  the  still  sobbing  Betty, 
who  was  crying  now  from  happiness,  and  the 
other  hand  in  his  pocket,  William  ascertained 
what  the  views  of  the  injured  were  in  regard  to 
reparation.  All  were  satisfied  at  last,  even  to 
the  least  supers  in  the  mob,  and  low  in  the 
street,  and  loud  on  the  stairs,  the  last  sound 
died  away. 

"Take  me  away!  Take  me  away!"  cried 
Betty,  clinging  wildly  to  William's  arm,  and 
sympathetically  coddled  by  Ruth  and  Na- 
dine. 

The  policeman,  who  had  also  been  satisfied 
pecuniarily,  had  discreetly  melted  away  into 
the  dim  silence  of  the  stairs. 

Temp  stood  disheveled  and  still,  in  a  stupor 

of  bewilderment,  not  realizing,  as  yet,  that  the 

cloud  of  misfortune  had  traveled  on. 

215 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Take  me  away!  "  cried  Betty,  more  poign- 
antly and  dismally. 

At  this  Temp  started  and  came  to  himself, 
but  when  he  looked  at  the  tableau  before  him, 
he  realized  that  the  forces  of  law,  order,  and 
stupidity,  were  against  him,  and  that  genius 
had  lost  one  more  engagement  in  the  never- 
ending  battle  between  the  bourgeois  and  the 
intellectual. 

He  did  not  attempt  to  make  a  defense.  He 
realized  his  sins  of  borrowing,  and  for  the  first 
time  had  the  grace  to  feel  ashamed  of  himself. 
He  had  despised  William  Clark,  but  now  he 
appreciated,  mournfully,  but  justly,  the  law- 
yer's sterling  qualities.  Clark  was  a  sturdy 
oak  and  a  safe  refuge,  but  what  was  there  in 
himself,  Temp,  of  safety  and  refuge,  for  a 
clinging  maiden? 

"  I  want  to  go  home! "  said  Bettina. 

Ruth  looked  superciliously  about  the  studio, 
and  was  not  favorably  impressed  by  the  tan- 
gled mass  of  coal,  finery  and  poets.  She  might 
even  have  been  said  to  sniff. 

Nadine,  on  the  contrary,  found  her  sur- 
roundings romantic. 

216 


RETURNS  TO  THE  FOLD 


"  How  interesting!"  she  exclaimed  to  Betty, 
tucking  back  her  veil  and  preparing  for  a  stay. 

Bettina  gave  one  agonized  look,  which  swept 
the  debris. 

"No!    No!    No!"  she  cried. 

The  rebellion,  which  had  been  so  remorse- 
fully put  down  in  Betty's  heart,  now  broke  out 
in  all  its  violence.  All  the  grievances  which 
she  had  been  nursing,  through  these  four 
weeks,  clamored  to  be  heard.  She  walked  a 
step  away,  and  unconsciously  struck  a  dra- 
matic attitude,  holding  out  her  hand,  as  if  to 
command  silence.  She  had  caught  dramatic 
attitudes  from  Temp,  and  the  white  corpuscles 
of  defense  had  not  been  strong  enough  to  repel 
the  invading  germs  of  the  disease. 

"  I  feel,"  said  Bettina,  "  that  if  I  heard 
about  Casey  Jones  once  more  I  should  commit 
murder." 

"  This  is  a  singing  army,"  she  said  grimly, 

"  and  I  know  the  words  by  heart.     I  have 

heard  them,  over  and  over,  night  and  day.    All 

the  songs  in  the  little  red  book.     I  have  heard 

so  much  about  '  Pie  in  the  Sky '  that  I  never 

want  to  see  a  piece  of  it  on  earth  again." 

217 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


No  one  interrupted  her.  Temp  stood  as  if 
frozen  by  this  blasphemy. 

"  Oh,  Nadine,"  she  cried,  "  how  good  it  will 
be  to  get  out  of  this  again !  " 

"  But  it  is  exciting  here,"  remonstrated  Na- 
dine. 

Bettina  and  William  were  withdrawn  a  lit- 
tle from  Temp  and  his  group  of  friends. 

"  Yes!  Romantic!  "  breathed  Ruth,  but  at 
that  Bettina's  rebellion  burst  bounds. 

"  It's  dreary,  dull,  boring,"  she  declared. 
"  I  couldn't  have  stood  this  another  dav,  it  was 
so  tiresome,  so  monotonous!  Oh,  William,  I 
will  be  engaged  to  you  again.  I  am  sorry  I 
was  so  selfish !  "  Then  her  two  hands  went  up 
to  his  shoulders,  and  with  all  the  sincerity  of 
her  restless  youth  in  her  tones,  she  breathed: 

"  How  very  exciting  it  will  be  to  marry  a 
conservative ! " 

Then  the  two  went  softly  down  the  stairs, 
followed  by  Ruth  and  Nadine,  and  out  into  the 
sunshine  of  the  Square. 

In  the  studio  the  silence  which  their  going 

had  made  was  broken  by  Temp,  giving  a  great 

sigh — who  could  say  whether  of  despair  or  re- 

218 


RETURNS  TO  THE  FOLD 

lief.  He  held  his  graceful  arms  above  his  head 
and  yawned.  Then  suddenly  the  well-known 
fire  leaped  into  his  eyes,  and  dragging  toward 
him  a  little  table,  he  pulled  a  few  crumpled 
sheets  of  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  a  pencil 
from  the  hand  of  the  nearest  poet.  He  seated 
himself  on  a  trunk,  and  prepared  to  write. 

He  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  in  a  fine 
frenzy.  "  Oh !  It's  good  to  be  alone  again, 
and  to  work!     I  can  do  it  now,  my  epic." 

Then  in  a  subdued  voice,  as  he  remembered 
Bettina,  he  added  philosophically:  "  Perhaps 
it  was  the  best  thing  after  all."  And  he  mused, 
in  a  tone  composed  of  a  little  contempt,  and 
much  mournfulness,  "  Once  a  bourgeois,  al- 
ways a  bourgeois." 


219 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

BETTINA  AND  THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

With  his  hand  tightly  on  her  arm,  William 
led  Betty  firmly  out  to  the  Brevoort,  where 
they  found  a  taxi  idling  about. 

The  driver  was  inside,  following  the  custom 
which  used  to  prevail  at  resting  places  showing 
the  sign  "  Refreshments  for  Man  and  Beast." 
Only  now  that  horses  have  gone  out  and  ma- 
chines come  in,  the  man  and  beast  are  so  often 
the  same  person. 

The  driver  was  secured,  and  the  four  packed 
into  the  rather  small  and  dusty  space  which 
would  better  have  served  two,  and  those  two 
affectionately  inclined. 

But  Betty  did  not  even  know  she  was  being 

crowded.     She  was  unconscious  of  the  muddy 

condition  of  the  floor  and  the  dusty  state  of  the 

seats.     She  was  perfectly  silent,  which  was  an 

unusual  state  for  her. 

Ruth  and  Nadine  insisted  on  being  set  down 

220 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

at  Altaian's  to  shop,  so  the  two  had  the  car  to 
themselves.  Then  William  knew  why  Bettina 
had  been  silent.  She  had  been  crying  beneath 
her  veil  ever  since  they  started.  Now  she 
burst  into  real  sobs  and  wept  as  if  her  heart 
would  break. 

"What's  this?  Betty!  Why?  Oh,  what 
is  it? "  He  was  in  a  fever  of  anxiety.  "  Tell 
me  what's  wrong! " 

"  I'm  only  crying  for  happiness ! "  explained 
Betty,  with  sniffs  between  words. 

"  Oh,"  William  patted  her  shoulder  compla- 
cently and  smiled  pleasantly.  He  liked  per- 
sonal compliments. 

"  Yes,  I  thought — I  thought  I  should  never 
see  a  taxi  again ! " 

"  Oh! "  William  stiffened.  But  he  had  to 
be  human,  for  the  next  minute  her  fingers  slid 
above  his  collar  edge  and  she  sighed  approv- 
ingly. 

"  It  isn't  that  their  collars  are  dirty,"  she  ex- 
plained plaintively.  "  It's  that  they  don't  care 
whether  they're  dirty  or  not." 

Then  William  cautiously  put  an  arm  about 

her  in  awkward,  brotherly  comforting. 

221 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  There  are  lots  of  uses  for  a  taxi/'  mused 
Betty  in  a  low  tone,  "  but,"  she  added,  "  I 
didn't  think  anyone  from  Boston  would  know 
them." 

William  removed  his  arm,  self-conscious,  but 
the  comforting  was  still  there  in  his  quiet  eyes. 

Betty  gave  a  great  sigh  of  relief,  as  a  ship 
might  sigh,  if  ships  ever  did  so  express  their 
feelings,  upon  coming  safely  into  harbor,  after 
journeying  on  a  sea,  sudden  and  perplexing 
and  quite  beyond  the  simple  understanding  of 
ships. 

Bettina  began  her  trial  month  with  William 
immediately.  Then  ensued  for  her  one  of 
those  perfect  periods  of  life,  which,  when  they 
happen  to  people,  make  them  wonder  what 
bolt  from  the  blue  is  threatening.  Their  hap- 
piness is  so  great  that  they  know  it  cannot  last. 

Bettina  knew  it  could  not.  Day  after  day 
she  shivered  apprehensively.  But  the  month 
wore  on  and  every  hour  of  it  was  more  pleasant 
than  the  last. 

After  the  first  glow  of  being  rescued  had 
passed,  she  had  decided  that  after  all,  though 
she  felt  almost  certain  in  her  own  mind,  she 

222 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

would  go  on  with  her  plan,  and  try  out  Wil- 
liam, as  scheduled.  It  really  was  only  scien- 
tific, and  wise.  Besides,  she  did  not  want  to 
stop  her  experiment  in  the  middle  of  it.  She 
had  put  her  hand  on  the  plow,  and  she  would 
not  draw  back. 

William  still  objected,  but  only  in  his  heart, 
so  Bettina  was  not  at  all  disturbed.  If  people 
did  what  she  wanted,  she  never  troubled  her 
head  about  whether  they  wished  to  or  not. 

And,  of  course,  William  could  not  help  see- 
ing how  logical  was  her  course.  She  explained 
it  all  to  him  so  often. 

And  to  Nadine  and  Ruth  also,  for  she  was 
again  in  their  world.  They  hovered  about  her 
constantly  and  the  three  had  many  discussions 
concerning  Bettina's  theories.  They  all  were 
forced  to  agree  about  this  particular  theory — 
it  had  worked.  There  was  no  doubt  whatever 
about  that. 

When  the  month  was  nearly  over,  Bettina 
already  was  discussing  a  tentative  date  for  her 
wedding.  It  was  to  take  place  about  two 
weeks  later,  and  the  girls  were  all  busy  em- 
broidering for  the  trousseau. 

223 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


It  was  to  be  a  very  quiet  wedding,  they  had 
decided,  but  it  soon  became  apparent  that  with 
people  who  had  as  many  relatives,  and  whose 
relatives  had  as  many  ramifications  and  obli- 
gations as  William  Clark  and  the  lateral 
Clarks,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a  quiet  wed- 
ding. 

However,  Betty  was  not  dismayed.  Her 
recent  experience  with  artistic  poverty  made 
her  unduly  avid  of  social  pomp  and  splendor. 
There  was  a  time  when  she  would  have  pre- 
ferred a  registry  office  and  a  wedding  in  the 
sight  of  God ;  but  now  she  insisted  upon  a  cere- 
mony, in  the  sight  of  all  Manhattan;  not  to 
speak  of  the  portion  of  Philadelphia,  and 
Walla  Walla,  Wash.,  which  had  come  to  see 
Cousin  William  married. 

Bettina  hardly  noticed  when  the  month  was 

up,  as  her  decision  was  naturally  already  made. 

She  had  learned  what  it  was  to  be  comfortable, 

to  have  not  a  care  in  the  world.     She  drew  a 

deep  breath  of  thankfulness  when  she  realized 

from  what  a  mistaken  step  William  had  saved 

her.    What  a  doom  would  have  been  hers !    No 

resounding  and  terrifying  doom  upon  the  hills 

224 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

clutching  at  one  of  Dunsany's  beautifully  cos- 
tumed shepherds  could  have  held  a  candle  to  it. 
Well,  this  showed  the  value  of  making  a  thor- 
ough test.  If  she  hadn't  done  that  she  might 
have  married  Temp ! 

For  the  two  weeks  following  the  fateful 
month,  Bettina,  Ruth,  and  Nadine  lived  in  a 
mad  whirl  of  incipient  lingerie;  urgent  dress- 
makers ;  and  rapidly  arriving  dessert  forks  and 
berry  spoons. 

At  last  came  the  day  of  the  wedding.  It 
was  to  take  place  at  the  home  of  a  well-to-do 
and  extremely  conservative  aunt  of  William's. 

She  had  Bettina  up  to  dinner,  some  two 
weeks  before,  when  the  engagement  was  an- 
nounced, and  had  examined  her  in  detail,  and 
severely,  in  order  to  ascertain  for  herself 
whether  or  not  she  would  be  a  suitable  wife  for 
William. 

Bettina,   being  very   frightened   and   shy, 

naturally  seemed,  at  the  moment,  the  meek  and 

mouse-like  creature  that  was  her  ideal.     Aunt 

Sybil,  therefore,  entered  into  the  preparations 

of  the   wedding  with   her   customary   vigor. 

From  wedding-cake  boxes  to  white  ribbons 

225 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


and  orchids,  everything  was  correct.  As  the 
hour  for  the  ceremony  drew  near,  the  guests 
surged  in.  The  large  drawing-rooms  had 
been  thrown  together.  At  the  flower-embed- 
ded platform,  the  minister  was  already  wait- 
ing. The  soprano  hum  of  women's  voices, 
with  the  occasional  bass  of  their  escorts,  filled 
the  rooms,  and  grew  louder,  and,  to  Bettina, 
in  a  hurried  reconnoitering  visit  to  the  top  of 
the  stairs,  more  menacing.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  all  New  York  was  there.  Still,  why 
should  she  mind?  She  wanted  to  be  married, 
and  to  William  Clark.  She  had  deliberately 
chosen  him.  Then  why  should  she  feel  this 
sudden  sinking  of  the  heart — this  premonition 
— this  panic? 

"Bettina!"  Ruth  had  darted  out  of  her 
room,  and  clutched  her  by  the  arm.  "  You're 
only  half  dressed.  Don't  you  know  that  we 
must  hurry?    What  are  you  doing?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Bettina  meekly. 

Ruth  pulled  her  back  into  the  cluttered  bed- 
room, scolding  all  the  way. 

The  other  helpers  had  gone,  leaving  only 

Ruth  and  Nadine,  to  give  the  finishing  touches 

226 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

to  Bettina's  veil,  and  to  see  that  she  had  her 
shower  bouquet  and  prayer-book. 

Ruth  was  as  tearful  as  a  mother  is  supposed 
to  be  on  such  occasions.  It  was  not  in  Ruth's 
nature  to  refrain  from  doing  the  conventional 
thing,  in  any  of  the  crises  of  life.  Also  she 
gloried  in  crises.  A  funeral  would  have  suited 
her  better  than  a  wedding,  but  lacking  a  fu- 
neral, she  was  prepared  to  enjoy  the  wedding 
to  the  utmost. 

Therefore  she  took  out  her  tissue  handker- 
chief and  wept  broken-heartedly. 

"  Darn  it,  Ruth!  "  Nadine  let  go  the  folds 
of  the  veil  long  enough  to  shake  her  vigorously. 

We're  late  already !  You  fasten  her  slip- 
pers ! "  At  this  moment  there  was  a  knocking 
at  the  door  and  an  urgent  voice  slipped  through 
the  crack: 

"Girls!  Girls!  Are  you  nearly  ready? 
Everybody's  here." 

Nadine  swung  Rettina  around  facing  the 
luxurious,  full-length  mirror.  "  There,"  she 
said,  "  you're  finished,"  and  as  she  looked  at 
the  vision  herself,  she  gave  a  gasp.  "  Why, 
you're  perfect ! "  she  exclaimed,  startled. 

227 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Betty  had  never  looked  so  lovely.  Even 
Ruth,  though  she  hated  to  admit  it,  had  to 
agree. 

"  I  am  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world,"  Bet- 
tina  said  with  profound  conviction,  the  tears 
starting  to  her  eyes  in  her  earnestness. 

"  If  you  hadn't  said  that,  it  wouldn't  have 
been  a  real  wedding,"  remarked  Nadine. 
"  Every  bride  has  to  say  it.  It's  as  necessary 
as  the  *  I  do ! '  " 

"  Other  brides  may  say  it,"  answered  Betty 
serenely.  "  But  with  me  it's  true.  You  see, 
I  have  something  else  beside  the  wedding  to 
make  me  particularly  satisfied.  To-day  vin- 
dicates all  my  theories,  my  beliefs.  I'm  like  a 
naturalist,  a  surgeon,  an  inventor,  who's  staked 
his  life  on  a  certain  thing  being  true,  and  at 
last  has  proved  it.  Do  you  remember  the  day 
I  told  you  about  my  theory?  I  said  I'd  make 
a  husband  test,  and  I  have.  I  said  it  would 
work,  and  you  didn't  believe  it,  and  it  has! ' 

"  Yes,"  Nadine  was  obliged  to  admit,  "  it 
seems  to  have." 

"Seems!" 

"  Well,  it  really  has,  then." 

228 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 


99 


"  Of  course  it  has.  It  couldn't  fail.  The 
theory  was  sound.     Confess  now,  I  was  right." 

"  Yes,  you  were,"  said  Ruth,  and: 

"  Yes,"  said  Nadine. 

Bettina  beamed.  She  preened  herself  like 
a  peacock  puffed  up  with  pride,  as  if  she  her- 
self had  invented  marriage. 

"  Every  girl  should  do  what  I  have,"  added 
Betty  earnestly,  "  and  then  she  couldn't  make 
a  mistake.  If  I  hadn't  done  this,  I'd  certainly 
have  married  Temp,  and  what  an  awful  mis- 
take that  would  have  been ! 

"  Yes,  it  would  have. 

"  So,  you  see,  I  simply  made  the  test  and 
found  Temp  wasn't  the  man  for  me  and  Wil- 
liam was,  and "  she  swung  round  in  her 

wedding  dress,  posed  like  a  statue,  bowed  and 
laughed,  "  All's  well  that  ends  well." 

"  Yes,  but  it  isn't  ended  yet,"  observed  Na- 
dine, in  her  impersonal  way. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Simply  that  I  don't  trust  these  new- 
fangled methods  of  trying  to  get  ahead  of 
Cupid,  of  trying  to  dodge  marrying  the  wrong 

man.     It's  too  good  to  be  true.     It  can't  be 

229 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


done.  Every  girl  marries  the  wrong  man. 
She  always  has  and  always  will.  She  may 
make  a  husband  test,  but  she  won't  abide  by  it." 

"  It's  no  use  looking  before  you  leap;  you're 
apt  to  land  in  the  same  place  anyhow." 

"Nadine!" 

"  I'm  not  telling  about  you,  Betty.  I'm 
talking  about  the  average  young  woman." 

"  Girls! "  came  the  agonized  whisper  at  the 
door  again.  "  You've  a  minute  more,  but 
that's  all ! " 

"  We  must  go,"  Ruth!  suggested  importantly 
to  Nadine.  "  It's  always  the  custom  to  leave 
the  bride  to  herself  for  a  moment.  They  pray, 
I  think." 

"  Oh  dear,  no !  Don't  leave  me,"  cried  Bet- 
tina,  clutching  at  an  arm  of  each.  "  I  can't  go 
down  unless  you  are  here  to  push  me !  " 

Nadine  half  yielded,  but  Ruth,  with  cen- 
turies of  austere,  home-making  instincts  firmly 
imbedded  in  her  feminine  mind,  was  adamant. 

"  No! "  she  said.     "  We  must  leave  her  by 

herself,  if  it's  only  for  a  second.     It's  the 

proper  thing  to  do.     Come,  Nadine !  " 

Nadine,  rather  reluctantly,  allowed  herself 

230 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

to  be  coaxed  through  the  door.  She  and  Ruth 
already  had  on  their  bridesmaids'  dresses  of 
jade  georgette,  and  had  finished  their  own  ar- 
rangements, even  to  the  last  fluff  of  powder  on 
their  noses,  before  going  to  Betty.  Now  they 
waited  solemnly  and  rather  uneasily,  at  the  end 
of  the  corridor  for  her,  as  they  would  have  to 
attend  her  down  the  stairs,  and  through  the 
parlors  to  the  platform  where  they  were  to  de- 
liver her  over  to  William  Clark. 

As  they  waited  they  looked  down  at  the 
chatting  crowd,  at  the  sea  of  color  and  fra- 
grance and  sound. 

"  No  wonder,"  said  Ruth,  quietly,  "  that 
Betty  is  glad  to  come  back  to  all  this  after  that 
untidy,  terrible  studio." 

"  Um-m,  yes,"  assented  Nadine,  somewhat 
doubtfully. 

Left  behind  in  her  room,  Betty  stood  for  a 

moment,  with  panic-stricken  eyes,  then  since 

she  was  directly  in  front  of  the  mirror  and 

could  hardly  avoid  the  vision  of  her  white  satin 

self,  she  was  seized  with  unwilling  and  startled 

admiration. 

What  a  perfectly  beautiful  girl!     Surely 

231 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


this  could  not  be  she.  How  frightfully  be- 
coming weddings  were !  One  should  have  them 
frequently,  she  reflected,  like  shampoos  and 
mud  baths,  to  improve  one's  looks. 

Then  her  glance  fell  on  the  white  kid  prayer- 
book  in  her  hand,  and  her  eyes  grew  solemn. 
There  was  a  pause  in  which  she  thought  with 
awe  of  the  responses  she  would  be  making 
within  the  next  few  moments ;  and  the  lifelong 
chains  with  which  those  words  would  bind  her. 
Still  they  were  happy  chains.  How  glad,  how 
grateful  she  was  for  that!  How  wonderful 
that  she  was  marrying  William,  who  would  al- 
ways take  care  of  her,  and  make  her  life  com- 
fortable and  sure  and  placid! 

How  thankful  she  was  that  it  was  not  Temp 
she  was  chaining  herself  to!  What  a  terrible 
thing  that  would  have  been!  She  shivered  as 
she  thought  of  it.  What  a  narrow  escape! 
How  nearly  her  venturesome  impulsive  ways 
had  come  to  getting  her  into  trouble!  But 
that  was  over  now ;  she  had  been  taught  a  les- 
son. She  would  never  let  her  impulses  and 
wishes  sway  her  again. 

How  good  she  would  be!     How  well  she 

232 


THE  BALCONY  SCENE 

would  fulfill  her  position,  like  Aunt  Sybil,  gra- 
cious, calm. 

As  she  stood  thinking  of  this  she  heard  a 
slight  sound  behind  her  at  the  window.  She 
had  stood  at  the  window  this  morning,  she  had 
even  walked  out  on  the  little  balcony  to  which 
it  opened,  and  listened  to  the  birds  singing  in 
the  few  feet  of  lawn  which  Aunt  Sybil's  house 
boasted.  It  was  remote,  a  small  bit  of  garden, 
for  it  was  at  the  back  of  the  house,  with  small 
windowless  buildings  rising  on  all  sides. 

Remote!  She  remembered  that  now,  and 
was  afraid.  Who  was  at  the  window?  Could 
it  be  a  burglar?  It  must  be!  And  her  pearls 
— William's  gift  to  her — an  heirloom,  already 
clasped  around  her  neck!  And  in  the  room 
were  other  wedding  presents!  Down-stairs, 
too,  the  array  of  silver  with  the  donor's  cards 
would  probably  be  almost  unwatched,  while 
even  the  servants  peered  at  the  ceremony. 

She  stood  tense,  rigid,  turning  over  these 
possibilities  in  her  mind.  She  had  not  heard 
a  sound  since  that  first  unmistakable  one,  but 
she  was  certain  that  someone  stood  at  the  win- 
dow behind  her.     She  knew  it  by  that  sixth 

'233 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


sense  with  which  one  feels  the  presence  of  an- 
other person  in  a  darkened  and  supposedly 
empty  room. 

If  he  would  only  move  again ! 

She  pretended  to  be  doing  something  to  her 
hair,  but,  except  for  her  moving  fingers,  her 
whole  body  was  tense  Math  listening.  But 
there  came  no  sound.  All  the  world  seemed  to 
be  still. 

Then  a  taxicab  gurgled  in  the  street  below, 
and  broke  the  spell.  At  the  same  instant  she 
heard  the  stealthy,  unmistakable  rustling  that 
told  of  the  moving  of  that  person  behind  her. 

Frightened  into  courage,  she  whirled  round, 
to  see  a  man  standing  in  the  open  window, 
about  to  spring  into  the  room. 


234 


CHAPTER  XXX 

TEMP  AS  A  GOOD  PROVIDER 

At  the  sight  of  the  man  at  her  window,  she 
stepped  back  against  the  dressing-table,  weak 
and  trembling,  her  original  fear  driven  out  by 
a  real  relief  and  a  humorous  shock. 

"  Temp!  "  she  gasped. 

"  Yes.  It's  I,"  he  said,  stooping  and  ex- 
citedly stepping  down  into  the  room.  He 
started  toward  her. 

"Don't! ''she  cried. 

He  stopped. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  be  at  your  wedding." 

"  The  wedding's  down-stairs." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  gloomily.  "  I  passed 
the  front  door.     I  saw  it  arriving." 

"And  you  weren't  invited,  anyway."  There 
always  had  been  a  dare-devil  fascination  about 
Temp.     He  was  of  the  tribe  of  the  ne'er-do- 

235 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


wells,  the  bandits  who  steal  from  the  staid,  illu- 
sions, conventions,  customs  walls  instead  of 
money,  and  every  girl  loves  an  outlaw.  But 
Bettina,  experienced  now,  steeled  her  heart. 

"  I  know  I  wasn't,"  his  tone  was  justifiably 
aggrieved.  "  Why  didn't  you?  Were  you 
afraid  of  me?  Afraid  I'd  kidnap  you  at  the 
last  minute? " 

She  did  not  answer. 

"  Because  that's  what  I  came  for,"  he  fin- 
ished quietly. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina.  Then  she  re- 
membered the  proper  words.  "  How  dare 
you?"  she  demanded.  "This  is  no  time  for 
joking." 

"  I'm  not  joking." 

"  Oh,  go  away!  Go  away!  Can't  you  see 
you're  intruding?  I  ought  to  be  praying  this 
minute! " 

"  I  should  think  you  would  pray.  You  need 
to.  I  can  quite  understand  any  girl  about  to 
marry  William  Clark  praying  for  help." 

Betty  had  a  sudden  vision  of  William's  cor- 
rect, stiff  countenance,  and  could  not  help  smil- 
ing herself.     For  which  lapse  on  her  part  she 

236 


A  GOOD  PROVIDER 


naturally  punished  Temp.  She  stamped  her 
white  satin  foot. 

"Are  you  going? "  she  demanded,  exasper- 
ated. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then " 


"  With  you."  He  looked  like  a  magazine 
hero,  soulful  and  determined,  Temp  always 
looked  like  something  out  of  a  book — but  such 
a  very  readable  book ! 

'  Oh,  don't  keep  on  with  that!  It's  non- 
sense and  you  know  it  is.  Oh,  Temp,  do  go! 
I'm  getting  angry  with  you.  Don't  make  me 
be  cross  with  anyone  on  my  wedding  day !  " 

"  I  never  want  to  see  him  again,"  she  had 
said  to  Nadine  and  Ruth,  in  this  very  room, 
only  a  few  minutes  ago.  And  she  had  meant  it. 
How  fervently  she  had  meant  it ! 

And  now  here  he  was !  She  wished  that  he 
had  not  come.  Did  she,  she  wondered.  We-el, 
at  any  rate,  she  knew  she  ought  to  wish  it. 

Not  that  she  was  at  all  afraid  of  his  power 
over  her.  Oh,  no !  He  had  no  power  over  her. 
None  at  all.  She  touched  her  wrist  experi- 
mentally.   Her  pulse  wasn't  hurried,  her  heart 

237 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


6i 


was  not  thumping  loudly.  He  couldn't  affect 
even  her  pulses,  much  less  her  judgment.  She 
was  only  a  little  sorry  for  him,  that  was  all. 

"  Temp,  please  go,"  she  repeated.  "  Some- 
one might  find  you  here!  " 

"  Bettina,  try  me  again! "  He  had  taken  a 
quick  step  forward  and  was  speaking  hurriedly 
with  that  earnestness  which  made  him  so  pic- 
turesque. 

I  did  try." 

But  don't  you  know  I  won't  be  like  that 
again?  I  see  everything  now.  It  was  your 
going  woke  me  up." 

"  Don't,"  she  said,  but  she  admitted  to  her- 
self that  penitence  was  frightfully  becoming  to 
him. 

"  I  couldn't  let  it  happen,  let  you  marry 
him "  He  threw  his  head  back  dramatic- 
ally and  the  sunlight  haloed  it  like  an  obedient 
spotlight. 

"  You  can't  stop  me,"  said  Betty  firmly. 

More  memories  rolled  in  on  him.     "  Oh,  I 

know  it  was  terrible  for  you — everything,  but 

especially  I ! " 

u  What's  the  good  of  thinking  of  all  that? " 

238 


A  GOOD  PROVIDER 


But  she  loved  seeing  him  grovel.  Being  femi- 
nine, she  needed  a  certain  amount  of  masculine 
groveling  as  daily  bread. 

He  held  out  his  hands  pleadingly;  his  voice 
was  convincing,  strong. 

"  I'll  be  different,  sure! "  he  cried. 

"That's  the  trouble!  You've  always  been 
different !     If  you'd  only  be  alike ! " 

"Alike?" 

"  You're  different  from  anything  and  any- 
one else  in  the  world.  Oh,  Temp,  why  were 
you  made  this  way?  " 

"  It  is  annoying,  isn't  it? "  said  Temp  sym- 
pathetically. 

She  stamped  her  foot.  "At  any  rate,  I've 
been  annoyed  by  it  all  that  I  am  going  to  in  my 
life,"  she  announced  firmly.  "  Someone  else 
will  have  to  be  the  one  for  the  next  sixty 
years." 

You  just  said  this  wasn't  a  time  for  jok- 
ing. 

"  I  never  was  farther  from  joking  in  my 

life!     I'm  in  desperate  earnest,  can't  you  see? 

I  want  you  to  go  away  and  leave  me  alone.    If 

you  won't  go,  I  will."    Knowing  that  he  would 

239 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


not  dare  to  follow  her,  she  started  toward  the 
door  leading  into  the  hall. 

His  expression  was  agonized. 

"Bettina!  Remember  the  ball — our  first 
kiss." 

"  Remember  the  gasman." 

"  Have  you  forgotten  our  strolls  in  the 
Square? " 

"  No,"  said  Betty  briefly.  "And  I  haven't 
forgotten  the  landlord  either." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  persist  in  remembering 
the  wrong  things ! " 

Then  they  both  smiled  out. 

"  Temp,  it's  no  good,"  explained  William 
Clark's  bride  kindly.  "  You  see,  I'm  not  ro- 
mantic any  more.  I  must  think  of  the  future. 
I  should  marry  a  good  provider.  And  you 
know,"  reproachfully  but  just,  "  you  know  you 
aren't  a  good  provider." 

"  Provider  of  what? '  demanded  Temp. 
"  There  are  some  things  that  I  can  provide  you 
with  that  Clark  never  could  if  he  lived  a  thou- 
sand years." 

"What  things?" 

"  Well,  romance,  if  you  like  to  call  it  that." 

240 


A  GOOD  PROVIDER 


"  I  don't  want  romance." 

"  Yes,  you  do.  Every  human  being  does. 
It's  the  one  thing  you  can't  live  without. 
Really  live.  Romance  is  like  salt,  so  precious 
that  tribes  that  can't  get  it  go  mad.  Look  at 
deer  and  salt  licks.  Well,  people  have  to  have 
romance  served  that  way  for  them  in  chunks,  at 
intervals.     Their  system  needs  it." 

'  But  I've  eaten  too  much  salt.     I  can't  get 
the  taste  out  of  my  mouth.     And  so  it's  very 

soothing  and  cooling "     She  waved  her 

hand  toward  the  door  that  opened  on  to  the 
stairway  leading  down  to  the  altar  and  the  end 
of  Betty  Howard;  and  Temperament  under- 
stood. 

Only  the  boudoir  clock  answered  then. 

After  a  moment  Temp  said  something  very 
low:  "When  he  kisses  vou,  when  he  touches 
your  hand,  can  he  make  you  feel  as  I  can?  " 

Betty  shivered  in  her  finery.  That  was 
something  she  had  never  allowed  her  real  self 
to  ask  her  practical  self — because  she  knew  the 
answer. 

From  her  silence  Temp  knew  too. 

"  Don't  fight  it,  Betty! "  he  cried  in  a  ring- 

241 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


ing  voice,  though  carefully  lowered  for  fear  of 
what  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  door.  "  We 
love  each  other,  and  it's  no  good  trying  to  deny 
it !    Don't  you  know  it's  true?  " 

Betty  stumbled  to  him,  broken,  weeping,  but 
restored,  whole,  fulfilled.  They  stood  facing 
each  otKer,  not  touching,  but  his  eyes  deep  in 
hers. 

The  spell  of  practicalness  had  left  her,  and 
she  breathed  freely  once  more.  Perhaps  the 
ozone  she  inhaled  was  illusions  but  it  was  the 
air  she  needed  to  keep  her  alive. 


242 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

"so  THIS  is  love! " 

There  has,  for  some  time,  one  understands, 
been  an  unsolved  mystery  about  the  way  of  a 
maid,  not  only  with  a  man,  but  with  a  vote,  a 
pet  dog,  a  golf  club,  a  erochetted  tidy,  or  any 
other  thing  she  happened  to  manipulate. 

But  really  the  prevailing  idea  is  most  unfair 
to  girls.  For  if  men  are  tools  in  their  hands, 
they  themselves  are  but  tools  in  the  hand  of 
Something  Else.  And  it  is  most  disturbing  to 
find  ourself  being  whirled  about  without  one's 
own  permission,  like  a  golf  stick  swung  about 
in  space.  No  one  can  blame  a  golf  stick  for  the 
violence  with  which  it  hits  the  golf  balls.  In- 
deed the  experience  must  be  bewildering  for 
the  club. 

The  present  experience  was  bewildering  to 
Bettina.  Her  practical  self  had  lost  after  all. 
And  she  was  glad.  How  good  it  was  not  to 
have  to  tell  herself  she  didn't  like  Temp,  to  tell 

243 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


it  so  accurately  and  circumstantially  and  with 
such  wealth  of  corroborating  reasons  that  she 
believed  it  herself. 

She  still  remembered  that  mass  of  reasons, 
she  knew  that  Temp  wasn't  the  man  for  her, 
but  she  knew,  too,  that  she  loved  him.  And 
she  divined  that  he,  too,  had  been  through  the 
same  struggle,  that  he  had  rebelled  against  his 
fate  and  been  conquered.  She  wasn't  his  kind 
and  he  wasn't  hers,  but  something  stronger 
than  themselves  drew  them. 

"  So  this  is  love,"  said  Betty  in  dismay. 

"  I  guess  so,"  assented  Temp  dismally. 

"Oh  dear!"  wailed  Bettina,  sitting  down 
limply. 

"  Uh-huh,"  Temp  agreed.  Then  he  went 
on.  "  It  isn't  logical.  I  should  marry  a  radi- 
cal girl  of  over  thirty  who'd  mother  me,  and 
make  our  living  doing  settlement  statistics  for 
some  social  service  bureau.  And  you,  of 
course,  should  marry  William  Clark.  I  should 
think  anyone  could  see  that.  Anyone  could 
except  this  ridiculous  blind  force  that  lecturers 
talk  so  much  about,  blast  them!  And  now  it's 
got  us!" 

244 


"  SO  THIS  IS  LOVE! " 


"  Just  after  we've  fully  decided  we  don't 
want  each  other,"  agreed  Betty  mourn- 
fully. 

"  Oh,  Temp,"  she  asked  hopefully,  "  don't 
you  think  you  could  forget  me?  " 

"  Know  darn  well  I  couldn't,"  growled 
Temp.  "  Tried.  My  God,  you  don't  think  I 
want  to  love  you,  do  you?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  she  interposed  sooth- 
ingly, reaching  out  and  patting  his  hand. 

"  Neither  of  us  want  to,"  she  added. 

It  was  foolish,  unpractical  for  her  to  care  for 
him,  but  she  did.  Madly.  It  was  absurd  for 
him,  financially  ruinous,  to  care  for  her.  But 
he  did  gloriously. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Bettina  to  herself.  She 
knew  now  what  radicals  meant  when  they 
talked  about  how  badly  the  world  was  gov- 
erned. 

"  Then  come,  Bettina!  "  he  was  begging. 

"  No." 

"  Come! "     He  seized  her  hands. 

Bettina  pulled  them  away  and  put  them  be- 
hind her,  backing  away  hastily. 

"  Think,  oh  think,  what  it  would  be !     How 

245 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


would  we  live?     I've  no  money  left.    And 

99 


you  — 

"  I'll  work  my  fingers  to  the  bone  for  you, 
Bettina,"  he  said,  his  heart  in  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Temp !  No.  You'd  let  your  fingers 
be  chopped  off  if  it  would  do  me  any  good,  for 
that's  something  that  could  be  done  in  an  in- 
stant, and  it's  dramatic  as  well — but  as  to 
working  them  to  the  bone — that  would  take 
steady  application  over  a  term  of  months.  I'd 
say — no,  Temp,  you  wouldn't  do  that !  " 

"Bettina,  don't  be  botanical!  You  dissect 
my  flowers  of  language  under  a  microscope. 
You  should  shut  your  eyes  and  drink  in  their 
fragrance  instead.  But  here  we  stand  talk- 
ing !  "     He  had  a  suspicion. 

"  You've  let  me  get  talking  on  purpose,"  he 
denounced  her,  "  to  put  me  off  till  it's  too 
late.  Once  and  for  all,  are  you  coming  with 
me?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  But  you  said  you  loved  me!  " 

"  I  could  if  I'd  let  myself.    But  it  won't  do." 

She  picked  up  her  bride's  bouquet  of  stiff 
prim  lilies  of  the  valley  and  her  white  prayer- 

246 


"  SO  THIS  IS  LOVE! " 


book,  and  behind  this  rampart  she  faced 
him. 

"  I  can't.  So  good-bye,,,  she  said,  then  her 
face  grew  agitated.  She  waved  the  shower 
bouquet  frantically,  and  gestured  with  the 
prayer-book  toward  the  open  window. 

'  Hurry!  "  she  gasped.  "  Someone's  com- 
ing!" 

Someone  undoubtedly  was. 

"  Don't  let  them  see  you !  "  She  flung  open 
the  door  slowly  and  stood  in  it,  herself  and  her 
flowing  finery  shielding  the  room,  until  he 
should  have  escaped. 

But  his  coat  caught  on  a  projecting  chair 
arm  and  pulled  him  back.    It  was  Temp's  luck. 

And  so  it  happened  that  when  an  indignant 
Ruth  and  Nadine  entered  they  found  a  still 
more  indignant  Temp,  making  frantic  and  ter- 
rified efforts  to  escape.  He  was  half  in  and 
half  out  of  the  window  when  they  discovered 
him,  and  there  he  remained,  uncertain  whether 
to  stay  or  to  go  would  prove  the  worse  dis- 
aster. 

The   bridesmaids   were   struck   dumb   with 

amazement.      But   Nadine,   always   self-pos- 

247 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


sessed,  came  forward  pleasantly.     "  How  are 
you? "  she  asked. 

"  Never  felt  better  and  had  less/'  answered 
Temp  cheerily. 


248 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

FOR  YOU  A  VIOLET 

But  Ruth  advanced  toward  him  like  a  hen 
protecting  her  chicks. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  "  she  demanded. 
"  You  have  no  right !     This  is  an  outrage !  " 

She  looked  so  regal  in  her  splendor  of  ap- 
parel, and  Temp  so  crestfallen  and  out  of  place 
in  his  crushed  corduroys,  that  Bettina's  sym- 
pathy was  aroused. 

Ruth  continued  to  belabor  him. 

Bettina  stepped  forward  impulsively  and 
laid  her  white-gloved  fingers  on  Ruth's.  She 
could  scold  Temp  herself,  but  she  wouldn't  let 
any  other  girl  do  so.  Ruth  turned  at  her  un- 
uttered  remonstrance. 

"  But  what  is  he  doing  here?  "  she  objected, 
horror  in  her  tones.    "  It's  your  wedding  day." 

"  That's  why,"  said  Bettina.  "  We're  go- 
ing to  be  married."  She  went  and  stood  by 
Temp. 

249 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  What  do  you  mean?  " 
"  But  Mr.  Clark?     What  will  he  say? " 
"  I'd  love  to  hear,"  answered  Bettina  can- 
didly.    "  But  I  can't  stop  to.     We  must  hurry 
off.     We're  going  to 


>> 


"  City  Hall,"  Temp  supplied,  practical  for 
once. 

At  this  awful  moment,  the  borrowed  church 
organist,  as  if  diabolically  inspired,  struck  up 
"  Here  Comes  the  Bride." 

The  four  were  stricken.  All  stood  rigid,  in 
the  attitude  in  which  the  music  had  surprised 
them,  like  a  group  of  living  tableaux  at  a  char- 
ity entertainment. 

"  You  can't  leave  now,"  Nadine  whispered. 

"  We  were  sent  to  get  you,"  Ruth  explained, 
remembering. 

"  The  flowers,  the  minister,  Aunt  Sybil," 
murmured  Ruth. 

"  William! "  Bettina  added  with  a  groan. 

"  Let's  go !"  said  Temp. 

"You  can't!"  Ruth  was  looking  at  Bet- 
tina aghast,  seizing  Betty's  arm  and  pulling 
her  toward  the  hall.     "  They'll  all  be  here  in  a 

minute  to  see  what's  wrong.     Lock  the  door, 

250 


FOR  YOU  A  VIOLET 


Ruth,"  advised  Nadine.  "  You're  insane, 
Betty,  quite." 

Ruth  went  sulkily  to  lock  the  door. 

"  If  you  must  do  it,"  Nadine  promised, 
"  we'll  gain  all  the  time  we  can  for  you.  We 
won't  tell  them  about  Temp  and  we'll  send 
them  in  wrong  directions.  A  license  doesn't 
take  long,  and  dear  knows  the  ceremony 
doesn't,  and  you'll  be  out  of  town  before 
they've  a  trace." 

Bettina  was  not  listening.  She  had  taken 
Temp  aside  and  pulled  with  her  immaculately 
gloved  fingers  at  his  corduroy  sleeve.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  his  imploringly,  trustingly, 
desperately. 

"  If  I  come,"  she  begged,  knowing  well  how 
useless  it  was  and  yet  being  a  woman,  hoping 
anyway,  "  promise  you'll  change?  You'll  be 
different  about  money?  You'll  look  ahead? 
Be  saving?     Count  the  pennies?  " 

"  I  promise,"  said  Temp  truthfully,   and 

kissed  her  hands ;  and  no  woman  can  disbelieve 

the  promise  of  a  man  who  kisses  her  hands.     It 

is  not  in  nature  to. 

"  Poor  William,"  said  Nadine. 

251 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  Yes,"  answered  Betty,  "  for  Ruth  will  set 
her  cap  for  him  now.  They  may  be  able  to  use 
the  same  wedding  cake.     Economical." 

"Sh!     She'll  hear." 

"  Do  her  good."  Betty  made  a  grimace. 
"  Yes,  I'm  hurrying." 

"And  now  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Betty? ' 
Nacline    might    disapprove,    but    she    always 
helped. 

"  My  cloak!     It  will  cover  everything! " 

But  Temp  was  looking  farther  ahead. 

He  drew  Nadine  to  one  side.  "  Do  you 
happen  to  have  any  money  about  you? '  he 
whispered  anxiously. 

"What!  You  haven't  anything  in  the 
world? " 

"  Spent  my  last  nickel  to  come  here  on  the 
'  L,'  "  he  confessed. 

She  emptied  her  purse  into  his  hand,  with  its 
jumble  of  dimes  and  quarters.  "  That  will 
only  just  pay  for  the  license  and  taxi,"  she 
said.  "And  this  is  the  only  bit  I  have  with 
me."  Fumbling  in  her  blouse  she  drew  forth  a 
cloth  pocket  and  from  it  a  twenty-dollar  bill. 
"  Ruth,  have  you  any  change  with  you? ' 

252 


FOR  YOU  A  VIOLET 


"Not  a  cent/'  said  Ruth.  "Didn't  even 
bring  a  purse,  for  I  knew  you'd  have  carfare, 
Nadine." 

"  This  is  enough,"  Temp  hastened  to  assure 
her. 

"  Yes,  it  will  last  us  a  week  easily  where 
we're  going.  We  planned  it  long  ago.  A 
quiet  village  hotel  over  in  Staten  Island,"  said 
Betty,  fastening  her  long  cloak.  "And  by  that 
time  something  will  have  turned  up.  Temp 
may  sell  a  story  or  something.  It  will  keep  us 
till  we've  time  to  turn  'round  if  we're  careful. 

"And  we  are  going  to  be  careful  now,"  she 
sang  radiantly. 

"They're  coming!"  warned  Ruth  at  the 
door. 

Betty  sprang  to  the  window.  Temp  pulled 
her  through  and  tenderly  guided  her  down  the 
fire-escape  into  a  new  life. 

The  deserted  bridesmaids  listened,  quaking, 
to  the  footsteps,  but  they  went  on  past  the 
door. 

"  Some  servant,"  said  Ruth,  relief  in  her 
face,  then  more  sternly,  "  We  must  go  and 
tell  them." 

253 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


"  No.  Everyone  would  see  us  on  the  stair- 
case.    Let's  wait  till  someone  comes." 

"  Yes."     They  were  lost  in  musings. 

"  Just  when  he  had  demonstrated  thor- 
oughly that  he's  the  worst  person  in  the  world 
for  her,  she  takes  him!"  Nadine  murmured. 
"  She  proved  her  theory,  made  her  test,  found 
out  what  to  do — and  then  deliberately  did  the 
opposite ! " 

Then  Ruth  gave  voice  to  a  truth  greater 
than  she  knew. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  suggested,  "  she  can't  help 
it.  Perhaps,"  she  ventured,  "  women  are  like 
that."  4 

Nadine  closed  her  eyes  with  the  calmness  of 
despair.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  she  answered, 
"  if  you're  right." 

Ruth  tidily  closed  the  window  and  picked  up 
the  abandoned  shower  bouquet. 

"  Well,  after  all,  it  only  proves  Betty  was 
brave,"  went  on  Nadine.  "  Temp  is  a  high- 
brow ne'er-do-well.  We've  always  had  the 
ne'er-do-well  type  with  us.  The  girl  of  gen- 
eration-before-last saw  the  reckless  young  man 

and  cautiously  passed  by  on  the  other  side,  but 

254 


FOB  YOU  A  VIOLET 


the  girl  of  the  twentieth  century,  bless  her 
heart,  takes  a  chance." 

"  No."  Ruth  wisely  shook  her  head.  "  It 
isn't  courage.     It's  just  impulse,  that's  all." 

In  the  speedy  taxi,  Temp  and  Betty  were 
discussing  this  cyclone  that  had  taken  them  up 
and  hurled  them  into  space,  at  least  had  hurled 
them  into  a  taxicab  stand  around  the  corner. 

"  It's  love,"  diagnosed  Temp,  and  Betty  put 
her  head  on  his  shoulder  trustfully,  assured 
that  her  husband  knew  everything.  After  all 
her  rebelling  she  was  destined  to  be  a  spouse 
after  St.  Paul's  own  heart. 

Apart  from  some  difficulty  about  remember- 
ing their  mothers'  maiden  names,  they  found 
that  the  license  indeed  did  not  take  long,  and 
the  ceremony  was  so  suddenly  over  that  it  left 
them  breathless. 

They  were  blissfully  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  at  the  home  of  Aunt  Sybil  the  organist 
had  played  "  Here  Comes  the  Bride  "  three 
times,  but  the  bride  never  came. 

Upon  that,  pandemonium  ensued,  and  Na- 

dine  and  Ruth  found  themselves  the  unwilling 

storm  center. 

255 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


Temp  and  Betty  had  forgotten  even  that 
Aunt  Sybil  existed,  and  if  anyone  had  men- 
tioned William  Clark,  they  would  probably 
have  had  to  rack  their  brains  to  recall  where  it 
was  they  had  heard  that  name  before. 

The  taxi  from  the  City  Hall  to  the  Staten 
Island  Ferry  took  almost  the  last  of  Nadine's 
change,  and  the  ferry  tickets  quite  finished  it. 

They  were  in  plenty  of  time.  The  boat  had 
just  touched.     Temp  put  Bettina  on  board. 

She  held  her  cloak  carefully  about  her,  lest 
any  telltale  white  satin  show.  She  was  sorry 
she  had  forgotten  her  lilies  of  the  valley,  but, 
of  course,  she  would  not  have  wanted  them 
anyway,  as  they  had  been  bought  by  William 
Clark,  that  splendidly  null  young  man  who, 
Bettina  was  certain,  must  have  been  able  to 
trace  his  descent  back  to  the  most  impossible 
of  husbands,  King  Arthur. 

But  she  was  not  thinking  of  that  now. 

How  wonderful  to  be  out  on  the  water  with 

Temp !     They  would  pretend  they  were  on  an 

ocean  voyage  together.     They  would  be  alone, 

far  away  from  everything  but  joy,  beauty, 

love. 

256 


FOB  YOU  A  VIOLET 


And  there,  over  on  the  island,  when  the  boat 
touched  land,  a  new  life  would  begin  for  her, 
for  them.  A  happy  life  rooted  in  security, 
safety.  For  Temp  was  different  now.  He 
had  promised.  He  would  never  live  in  that 
careless,  lily-of-the-field  way  again,  not  keep- 
ing a  penny  ahead  for  the  next  day.  She 
could  not  have  borne  that.  But  now — how 
happy  she  was! 

They  had  barely  stepped  on  board  the  boat 
when  Temp  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  I  wanted  to  get 
a  paper!     Mind,  dear?    There's  time." 

"  Hurry!  "  Newspapers  were  far  from  her 
ken  at  present,  but  she  knew  Temp's  queer 
New  York  way  of  not  being  able  to  exist  with- 
out them.  She  waited,  standing  by  the  rail, 
dreaming. 

Temp,  with  nothing  in  his  thoughts  more 
dangerous  than  the  intention  of  procuring  a 
newspaper,  rushed  to  the  news  stand. 

But  he  had  nothing  but  the  twenty-dollar 
bill,  and  as  he  took  it  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
opened  his  mouth  to  ask  for  his  favorite  paper, 
his  eye  was  caught  by  the  florist's  display  un- 
fortunately placed  next  to  the  news  stand. 

257 


THE  HUSBAND  TEST 


At  the  rail  Bettina  smiled,  dreaming — but 
her  mouth  drooped  wearily  too. 

She  was  so  tired.  She  wanted  so  to  get  a 
room  somewhere,  and  wash  her  hands  and  face, 
and  rest,  rest,  rest.  Well,  she  would  be  able 
to  in  a  few  moments.  How  lucky  Temp  had 
that  twenty!  If  she  couldn't  have  rested  soon, 
she  felt  she  would  simply  die! 

Just  in  time,  Temp  sprang,  panting  with 
haste,  to  her  side. 

"  Your  paper? "  she  opened  her  lips  to  ask, 
but  instead  gave  a  gasp  of  surprise  and  horror. 

But  he  did  not  see. 

Her  face  went  white  with  dismay. 

But  Temp  stood,  beaming  and  pleasantly 
conscious  of  virtue,  like  a  Boy  Scout  who  has 
just  done  his  daily  good  deed. 

His  arms  were  full  of  fragrant  purple  vio- 
lets, oceans  and  plains  of  them,  masses  of  blue 
loveliness  and  perfume.  Yes,  he  confessed 
gaily,  when  taxed.  He  had  spent  the  whole 
twenty  dollars  for  violets ! 

Bettina  stood  turned  to  stone.    What  would 

they  do — where  eat,  where  go?     What  could 

they  do  when  the  boat  touched  shore?     And 

258 


FOB  YOU  A  VIOLET 


worse,  ah,  worse,  this  proved  that  he  had  not 
reformed  at  all.  What  would  their  future 
life  be! 

But  Temp,  beaming  and  joyful,  did  not 
think  of  that.  He  was  thinking  only  of  her. 
His  worship  and  adoration  shone  from  his 
wistful  face. 

His  soul  was  in  his  eyes,  and  Bettina  could 
not  help  melting  as  she  looked. 

He  held  the  ocean  of  violets  out  to  her.  "  I 
had  to  get  them  for  you.  They're  so  like  you," 
he  whispered.  "  So  fragile  and  delicate  and 
sweet." 


259 


THIs  BooKai  -™  DATE 

TH.S   BOOK  O^THE  7m*"***  T°   RCT""N 
W.LL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CE°  THE  PENAL™ 

DAY    AND     TO    $1 OO     rfj  ,  S  °N  THE  F°URTH 
OVERDUE  °N    THE    SEVENTH    DAY 


^  ~       - 


LD  2l-l00m-8,'34 


lYB  32502 


&  d  OKA 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


